The Father in the Details
by Wesley1501
Summary: Sweets must confront his past. Contains violence, language, abuse
1. Chapter 1

**First fanfic.** **Written for personal enjoyment.**

**_I do not own Bones or any of its , Kathy Reichs and Hart Hanson do._**

The Father in the Details

The body of a small child lies upon the stainless steel examination table in the Jeffersonions Medico-Legal Lab.

" Why was I not informed about this earlier, you know how important it is to me that any evidence from the crime scene be handled correctly." Brennen scolded, sliding her id card through the security entrance, ascending onto the platform.

"And good morning to you too, ." Cam said as she finished signing some paperwork before handing the clipboard over to the waiting FBI field tech. " Don't take this one out on me. As you can see we just took possession of the remains, and as for the crime scene, this poor child was discovered three days ago, the local authorities were back logged and shorthanded so it would be a while before a thorough exam would be performed, but as you may or maynot be aware, the 7 year old son of one of the House members has been missing for over a week, sooo it was decided by the powers above that the Jeffersonion would be the best and quickest team to identity these remains as quickly as possible."

Brennen did not like the thought of the Jeffersonions vast resources at the beck and call of the rich an powerful, however logical an accurate their asessment of the teams abilties were. The forensic anthropologist pushed the thought away and focused on the small form laid out before her. The body was desiccated skin and flesh with much of the underlieing skeletal structure exposed. Remnants of what appeared to be childrens pajamas clung ripped and discolored to the corpse. ran a slender blue gloved finger along the mandible, completely focused she, proceeded to move along the whole body

"A cursery examination of the remains suggests male, caucasion, age 5 no more than 6 years of age. This is definately NOT the 7 yr old boy who is missing."

"Hey Bones! Did I just hear you say this isn't our missing kid?! The security pad beeped as Special Agent Seely Booth stepped up to the exam platform. Despite the casual upbeat tone, his eyes were tired and intense. A slight smile passed across his lips when Bones sea blue eyes met his gaze.

"Booth! This was the case that the Director Stark called you into an early meeting for?, she stated more than asked. " Yes. This child is too young." Bones resumed her examination.

" Oh OK then thats actually good news. There was a ransom request made. It was feared that the kidknappers may have decided to cut their losses and run but, since this isn't him there's still hope. I'll inform the Bureau." He reached into his dark navy suit fishing out his phone as he decended the platform. He was soon occupied in conversation."

From behind the stainless table Cam watched Booth for a moment, then satisfied he had had enough time to convey the "good news" she decended after him. She wanted to catch him before he left.

" Agent Booth! Cam's voice was congenial but stern." Booth, now that we have established that this poor child isn't the one everyones so interested in, the FBI will still want us to finish IDing the boy and establishing a COD, right?"

"What? Cam?, oh uh yeah. I mean. Yes, of course! Keep working. Call me when you have something. Alright?", Booth said distractedly before looking up to meet Cams anxious gaze. At that moment the agents phone, still in hand, began to ring. Continuing to face Cam he placed the device to his ear,"Booth...yes sir...I'll be there soon." he gently gripped Cams arm, Booth could see the struggle going on behind those dark brown eyes. Needing to control the sadness and anger, to remain focused, professional. Having known Camille so long, he understood how difficult she found cases like these. And he also understood her need to solve this childs mystery and get justice. "Look, I've gotta get back to the office, tells Bones I had to go, we'll talk later. Maybe lunch at the diner?" He said almost apologeticlly as he backed away before turning completely to walk out of the lab.

Returning to Dr. Brennens side Cam gazed down at the pitiful sight laid out before her. Death. She saw death everyday. As a forensic pathologist it was part of the territory, but it always affected her most when it was a child. Even more so when it was due to violence. How could anyone intentionally harm a five year old, so small and vunerable? She was slowly shaking her head, lips pursed into a frown. She could feel anger welling up in her as her stomach and chest began to knot up. Cam inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly. _Ok Camille keep it under control. Its just another day at work, another body needing an identity. Needing justice. And they won't get either if you let your feelings get to you. You are a professional. You are in charge! _Mental pep talk over went to work.

" Alright then, I'll finish taking samples from the remaining tissues, catalogue any visible wounds and then you may have the bones cleaned. But first Dr. Hodgens needs to check for any particulates. DR. HODGENS! Cams voice rose throughout the lab."Hodgens!"

" Hey! No need to shout ! I'm right here! Just had to drop Michael off at the daycare." The red haired entomologist had a relaxed grin on his face as he entered the secure area of the platform.

" Goood morning Cam, Dr. Brennen," looked up briefly in acknowledgment before returning to examine the tiny phalanges of the skeletal hand she held gingerly in her own. Looking down at the table, the mans grin became a grimace, both sad and angry, "Oh man, sorry, God its kid? Man I hate that! Why is it always the innocent who suffer the most? This kid can't be much older than Michael!" , Jack Hodgens shrugged his shouders as he let out a loud growly breath, as if the action could some how physically remove the emotions stirring inside him. Then, mind centered and focused, he sidled next to Cam and began gathering evidence of insect activity and any other samples he could test. "Hey Cam,where was this little guy, I am correct it is a he right? Judging by the dinosaurs on the pj's., where was he found?"

"According to the police report, HE was found inside a closet of an old condemed house. It was schedualed for demolition. Seems that one of those restoration groups was allowed to go in and salvage anything of architectural signifcance, you know mouldings, doorknobs, fixtures and what have you, anyway, they opened a bedroom closet and found this poor bab...found our victim." Dr. Sayroyans voice was calm but edged with sadness.

"Jack, did you get Michael settled in daycare?" Angela Montenegro-Hodgens stopped at the steps to the platform. " Morning Cam! Morning Bren!"The artists cheeriness was in obvious contrast to the trio gathered around the steel table. One look at the angst in her husbands sapphire blue eyes told her this was going to be the start of a very troubling day.

" Hey guys, why so glo...omy...Oh, oh God, its a child isn't it. And from your grim expressions I'm guessing its especially horrific?"

" I'm afraid your assessment of the situation is correct!", Brennen said with a heavy sigh, "Good morning Angela, I am glad you are here. We will need a facial reconstruction if we hope to obtain an identification. It may be possible to glean some information from his clothing as well" ,the anthropologist said thoughtfully as she stepped up to study the display screen now filled with xray images.

" , I would like to have the bones cleaned as soon as you have completed your examination. Angela, I will have an intern bring you the skull as soon it is available for your reconstruction."

"Greeaat. _Note to self, spend lunch with your beautiful baby boy . _You know, it's days like these that make me want to run off to Paris." Angela muttered as she turned away from the tragic sight of the childs corpse. Observing his wifes disheartened reaction Jack Hodgens was quick to action.

"Come on Angie," Hodgens gathered up his tray of samples and decended the platform "I'll fill you in on the case." He carried the tray in one hand and wrapped the free one around the beautiful artists waist. She returned the comforting embrace, gently tilting her head against his. The couple left walking towards Jacks bug room.

-A few hours later-

"There are multiple rib fractures across the thorasic, blunt force trauma from being kicked repeatedly, there is a complete fracture of both the ulna and radius on the left arm, as well as a hairline fracture to the left side of the mandible, possibly from a punch or slap with a closed fist. There also appear to be two equal length equadistant cuts to the back of the skull just behind the right ear. I would not speculate how they were made until the bones are cleaned Dr. Sayroyan." Bones reported although she continued studying the displays.

Dr. Sayroyan was placing tissue samples in test trays. She removed the clothing, Hodgins could deal with those, and placed them on a tray. She examined the body, noting the bruised discolored skin that was left on the small chest. Skin around the wrists had lacerations indicating the child had been bound. Finished examining the front of the body, she and an intern gently turned the body over. This area of the body had been against the wall inside the closet and the skin and flesh was less decomposed.

"Oh My God!" Cam gasped, "Have you found something ?", asked. Looking away from the xrays, she followed Cams gaze to the long lascerations that criss-crossed the shoulders and back of the small frame. Twenty-three lash marks had cut thru those dinosaur pjs and deep into the skin. Although Brennen remained silent, an expression of horror was evident on her face. Along with horror though ,was something else ,recognition.

" I...I am going to check Angelas progress with the facial reconstruction. It is very important we find this childs identity as soon as possible." then rushed from the platform. Leaving Cam alone. Regaining her composure the forensic pathologist continued the exam. Moving down to the small of the back she found five perfect circles branded into the leathery dry skin. Finishing up she noted various bruises and abrrasions. Examination complete she released the body to be defleshed. She gathered her samples, closed the door to her office, sat at her desk and allowed herself to silently sob for just a moment, but just a moment. Sayroyan brushed the tear streaming down her cheek aside, she had work to do.

Angela Motenegro-Hodgins day had started so well. She and Jack had enjoyed a little morning romp in the sheets, their adorable son allowed himself to be dressed without his usual fussiness, he even ate his oatmeal without complaint. Yes, her morning had started so pleasantly..now here she was with the small skull of a boy only a few years older than her own ray of sunshine playing in daycare. _Who are you little one? _ Angela had scanned the skull into her computer, eventually, a face was formed, first flesh then skin._ Aw you had the sweetest dimples. _Next the hair, based on what was found, brown curls. Now then, for the eyes, big and brown. The picture was complete. Angela used the image to search various missing person databases. It didnt take long before the search stopped, match found.

Bones was proud of her ability to distance herself from any personal emotional response to the cases she worked. She had seen atrocious horrors inflicted on innocent victims time and time again. She had learned long ago that emotions could get in the way of the critical thinking she depended on to reveal the stories of those innocents. Stories she knew had to be told. So she built walls made up of logic and fact. Science. These things had allowed her to become the best in the field of forensic anthropology. But somehow over her time with Booth, who relied on his emotional "gut" for guidence, those walls had ,not fallen as much as, changed into something more permeable. Ocassionally she allowed her emotions to lead her rational self to look beyond the hard science and make connections that did not make sense at the moment. Usually, these tangents would ultimatey be proven by empirical data. From the onset, this case had pushed at her heart. Cases that involved the brutal treatment of a child had always kicked at the walls, but now, since becoming a mother herself and gaining a firsthand understanding of how precious, how vunerable and trusting a child so young is, made the violence perpertrated on this boy that much worse. When they discovered the whip marks on his back, Bones walls nearly came down. The wounds were terrible, trauma from the pain alone would have been enough to induce shock and subsequent death. But it was the recollection of having seen that pattern of lash marks, long healed but clearly visible, on bared shoulders that caused an emotional wreckingball to hit those walls. But she had maintained her composure, an emotional outburst would be unprofessional and a waste of valuable time. Time was important now. This killer was out there with all the time in the world to repeat their grisly crime. Any chance of finding them relied on Angela IDing the boy as soon as possible. And it was that rational thought that drove her actions. Leaving the platform, Brennen was soon in the artists work space. There was a comfy sofa with lots of colorful pillows and a throw, an artist easel with Angelas latest creation and many finished works scattered about. At the other end was the Angelatron. This part of the room was more functional, filled with high tech scanning equipment, more screens and displays. A true reflection of Angela herself. Flamboyant, beautiful, and creative on one side intelligent, analytical, and focused on the other.

"Angela?!",Brennen stood beside Angela in front of the Angelatrons huge display. The image of a little boy with curly brown hair and large brown eyes grinned at them from the missing childrens report. Brian Forrester.

"Oh hey Bren, yeah so I just got this hit, he was a cutie too, so sad..he has been missing from the home of his foster family for over three months. I'll call Booth and ...wait ...Sweetie is something the matter?" Angelas voice suddenly filling with concern over Brennens slightly flushed face and the furrowed brows over glassy blue eyes. She knew something toubling was swirling around inside her best friends brilliant mind. Of course, she also knew getting Brennen to let the cat out of the bag wouldnt be easy. Bren gave Angela the briefest of glances before returning her gaze to the display.

"What? Oh, no.I am fine.. I ..I'm just a little tired. Thank you Angela, for IDing the victim so quickly...no need for you to call Booth. I will handle it. Prehaps you should see if needs any help with the boys clothing?" And with that Dr. Brennen rushed out of the room pulling her phone out of her blue lab coat. Angela barely got a somewhat quizzical, "O.K?!" out before Brennen had turned heel and literally ran from her office. _Hhm, she can run but she cant hide...something is going on.._Angela thought as she glanced back at the child on the screen and then at the time. _Oh well, Bren was gone and SHE had a lunch date waiting for her in the daycare. A hug from those little arms would be just the thing to brighten her mood__. _She left her office for a well deserved break.

After leaving Angela, Bones called Booth with the details. She then found Dr. Sayroyan , informed her of the identification and that Booth would be bring any information the Bureau had on the missing persons case. Finally, Brennen checked on the progress of the bones. Until the bones were available or Booth came she had little else to do. So Bones retreated to the quiet of her office.

" Bones! Hey Babe, I was just getting ready to grab Sweets and head over to the lab, figured he could do his shrinky...wait .. what.? You don't think that would be a good idea? What? Why?.. (you have a feeling.)...OK. OK. Who am I to argue with your genius gut. The boys name is ..Brian Forrester. Okay got it. I'll see what I can dig up on the case then come to the Jeffersonian..Are you okay Bones? ..Okay.. I'll see you soon.. Love you too." Agent Booth hung up the phone.

Special Agent Booth had Agent Shaw pull everything the FBI had on the missing childrens case of Brian Forrester and sent to Angela at the Jeffersonian. Making his way out of his office, Booth noticed Dr. Sweets in the breakroom getting coffee. Normally he would check-in with the young psychologist, make sure he would be available for a bit of profiling or simply drag him off to an interrogation. But not this time. Bones had been clear she did not want the kid shrink on this case... not yet anyway.. not until she could discuss something with her husband first. So this time he slipped past the breakroom without a second glance, boarded the elevator and was soon at the wheel of his black SUV heading to the lab. As he drove Booth pondered how anxious Bones had been on the phone. Must be because this case was about a kid. Maybe motherhood and marriage had softened some of those hard scientific edges of Bones. He knew Brennen had always cared about the subjects of their cases. It was just most of the time that care was deeply hidden behind a facade of clinical professionalism and hard science. But this time, his very rational wife had made a call based on a feeling, her gut! _What was up with that? I must be rubbing off on her._ The slightest half grin played across Booths face. He liked the idea of that. Booth would have an answer soon enough. He parked the vehicle and entered the Jeffersonion Medico - Legal Lab.

Bones wasn't in her office. Booth found her in the bone room examining the cleaned skull of Brian Forrester. She looked up. Booth noticed tension in his wifes lovely features and concern in those beautiful ocean eyes.

" Booth, before we join the others I need to show you something in my office." Bones gently placed the skull in its proper position then led the way to her office where she closed the door behind them.

" Okay Bones what's goin on? Why all the hush hush? And why didnt you want me to bring Sweets in on this one..." the agent asked calmly. Booth stopped his interrogation when Bones found the file she was searching for and pulled some images up on the computer screen. Booth could see it was the backside of the boys corpse. Despite the decomposition and his less trained eye he could make out lascerations criss-crossing the shoulders and back." That's whip..."

" Whip marks, Booth, aproxomitely twenty-three lashes... there are more injuries, but I saw these and .. Booth .. I just didn't want to expose to something possibly troubling for him." Bones eyes met Booths, he could see how unsure she was.

"Oh no, Bones, you did the right thing...yeah so we can handle this one... there are other profilers at the Bureau." Booth wrapped his strong arms around Bones and swept her into a reassuring embrace. Bones returned the gesture. As the two broke apart Bones met Booths worried stare with a wistful smile letting him know she was better now.

Agent Booth and entered Angelas office where Cam, Hodgens and Angela had been waiting to go over the case. "Okay you two..join the rest of the class so we can get started?" Hodgens chided the couple in attempt to lighten the mood. Cams eye roll in his direction combined with a very pointed stare from his betterhalf made it clear his efforts had not been successful nor appreciated.

Booth took in the image on the Angelatrons huge display. He hadn't taken time to review the case files back at the Hoover Building, after hearing Bones tone over the phone, he had Agent Shaw handle the files, allowing him to leave sooner. This was the first image he had seen of the Brian Forrester when he was alive. Agent Booth was struck by a feeling he had seen this kid before. Not Brian Forester ,but, a kid who bore a strong resemblence. Same chestnut curls, same chocolate brown eyes and even the same damned dimples. [Damn!] Booth scanned Bones face and instantly knew she already had made that connection as well. He then turned his attention to the particulars of Brians disappearance.

" Brian Forrester, age five, went missing three months ago from the backyard of his foster parents, Bill and Janette Newcome. Bill was at work. Janette said she had only stepped inside long enough to answer the doorbell and sign for some mail. When she returned Brian was nowhere to be seen. The backyard was fenced in on two sides, with a hedge butting against a wooded area behind the home. No one saw anyone or anything. The foster parents checked out clean. Brian had only just entered the system because his mother, Dana Forrester, was incarcerated for twelve months for shoplifting charges. Brians father John Forrester is deceased, dying in a car wreck ten months after Brian was born. There were no other family members alive or near to take the boy in so he was in temporary state custody." Angela finished her report then shifted to 3D simulations of the child.

Cam took over. "Toxicology showed traces of alcohol. There were signs of dehydration. Multiple contusions throughout the the thorasic, two equidistant cuts, both a half inch long behind the right ear, twenty-three moderate to severe lacerations in varying lengths overlapping across the shoulders and back. At the lower end of the back five, eight mm diameter circular burns in a pattern similar to a five on a dice. There are also ligiture marks around the wrists suggesting that at some point he was bound. There were no obvious signs of sexual abuse."

"I found copper wire and slivers of the outerlayer of electrical cord in both the wrists and the wounds on his back. There was cigar ash, Im working to pin-point a brand. His pjs were made of one hundred percent cotton, industry standards today require childrens sleep wear be fire resistent so that means they were most likely secondhand." Hodgens filled in.

The image transformed into a skeleton. Bones began her report. As she list the damage to the skeletal structure the corresponding bones would twist, crack or break. "Fractured mandible, greenstick fractures to the ribs, complete fracture to the ulna and radius of the right arm. Two equidistant scrapes on the lower right at the base of the skull."

"Cause of death was shock brought about by extreme trauma." Cams voice became edged with anger ."He was brutally tortured by some sadistic bastard then left to die alone in some old closet. Booth, I hope... when you catch this guy.. he resists arrest just so you can beat the crap out him." Cam said as she passed the Agent on her way out of Angelas office.

"I second that.", chimed Hodgens as he followed Cam.

"Bones you wanna ride along, I'm going to notify Dana Forrester her son died...but if you are busy..", Booth was going to finish with [ I'll take Shaw] when Bones stopped him.

"Of course Booth, I could use a break from the lab." Booth and Brennen left the Jeffersonion and headed to the minimum security correctional unit were Dana Forrester was serving out a twelve month sentence for shoplifting. The meeting went as well as a death notification could go. For his part Agent Booth remained professional but didn't hesitate to offer his sincerest condolences to the young women that was breaking down in front of him and Bones. Dana had made some bad decisions in life, but it was obvious she loved her son. She didn't deserve to lose him so soon and like this.

Bones was relieved to be back in the comfort of Booths SUV and leaving their gloomy task behind. The mothers heartbreaking outpouring of grief reminded her why she preferred the calm of her lab. Booth didn't really need her there to help with the notification, she was keenly aware he was superbly adept at dealing with such tasks. Her partner was an expert at reading people and understanding how to react. _ It was a talent she so often envied__._No, Bones was here to support Booth. Moral support should he need it.

The ride to the correctional facility had been quiet. Now, on the road heading toward FBI headquarters Booth broke the silence. "I'm gonna check Sweets foster father...see if maybe he was parolled early and nobody bothered to tell him. Bones, you agree there's just too many similarities to just be coincidence..right? Booth glanced at Bones for affirmation.

" I suppose that could be a possibility. It is true that both Dr. Sweets and Brian Forrester were whipped and do share similar identifying characteristics as well as having spent some time in the foster system. However, without thorough comparison of both cases it would be difficult to draw a factual conclusion the two are linked. Unfortunately, whipping is not as unusual in cases of torture and abuse as you may think. Physical characteristics such as brown eyes and hair are extremely common.", Bones could feel Booths brief but intense stare of what she guessed was disbelief and possibly annoyance at her completely rational take on the case.

"Really? Earlier you seemed pretty certain there was a connection to Sweets. Concerned enough to not want him involved. Sure it may not be Sweets foster dad, but there's no telling who he shared the gory details with while in prison. I'm going to look into it anyway." Booth said gruffly

"While I admit that my response this morning was somewhat emotional. I assure you, Booth, my concern was more for Sweets psycological well-being then an actual criminal connection to this case." Bones said defensively. Booth relented.

" You know its been a few months...probably too much to hope this is the only victim. I'll have Agent Shaw search for any similar cases." Booths shift of topics did little to lessen the pout on Bones face.

Once inside the Hoover building Agent Booth and Bones were enroute to Booths office when they encountered . The young man stepped into the elevator, his face brightened into a cheerful smile. "Good afternoon, Agent Booth, . Busy morning, huh Booth? But at least they found the kid, right? " For a moment Booth was confused but then recalled the message from Agent Shaw that the politicians kid had been found safe and sound, taken by a disgruntled employee. "Oh yeah, great news!" Booth hoped his cheerful response was quick enough to belie how preoccupied he was with the current case. " Agent Booth?" [Damn] Booth looked at Sweets. His head was tilted just a bit and ever so slightly squinted brown eyes were scanning the agents features.

"Booth? You seem... preoccupied. I assume you are investigating the case of the child they have at the Jeffersonion. You know, I'm available for any psycological insights on the case.." at that moment the elevator doors swooshed open, Booth took Bones by the elbow.

"Yeah, Sweets, gotcha... when I need any shrinky stuff I'll call.." Booth interrupted as he and Bones departed, the elevator the doors closing on a dejected looking Sweets. Bones followed Booths quick pace into his office. She settled into a chair across from her husband.

"You were rather abrupt with Dr. Sweets , Booth."

" I know Bones, but you know how he is, he'd figure out we don't want him on this case just by looking at us. So the less he's around the better right?" He retorted as he tapped the keyboard of his computer.

"Very sound reasoning." Bones shifted in the chair, relaxing a bit and crossing her legs. A few quiet minutes passed between the pair. Booth had to dig a bit before he found the information he needed. But now he had a name and a location. Jason Andrews, the prison. Booth made a call to the facility.

" Jason Andrews that's correct, he should be serving a 28 year sentence...oh ok well ..can I have the date he was transferred? Yes..and thank you for your help Warden." Booth ended the call.

"So Booth did everything check out?" Inquired Bones.

"Actually, I'm not sure yet." Booth was placing another call. Bones gazed quizzically at her husband as she listened in to the exchange occurring on the phone.

"...so Andrews was transferred to your facility because of health reasons? Seizure.. huh. Ok well that definately answers my question. Yes, thank you.. good bye." Booth ended the call tossed the phone on his desk. Leaning back into his leather desk chair he stretched his arms up, placed his hands behind his head then did a head roll to release the tension bulit up in his neck and shoulders. He brought his arms back down resting his hands on the desk.

"So one Jason Andrews ,aka Sweets foster dad, was serving a 28 year sentence... he was at the maximum security facility for the last twenty-one years, until a little less than a year ago, when he was tranferred to a minimum security medical facility. Seems he was involved in a fight in which he received pretty severe blow to the head, that caused seizures that have rendered him unresponsive and in need of constant care." As the final words rolled off Booths tongue he let out a deflating sigh. "You know Bones, I'm glad that its obvious this guy couldn't have a connection to this case directly, but I still wonder if maybe he could have inspired someone else, someone who was released maybe." Booth was in thinking mode, twirling a pen around his fingers as he concentrated, ".. but much luck getting any info out of Andrews." he mumbled scowling a bit.

Brennen had been a silent audience to her partners musing, she enjoyed watching Booth "thinking". Unlike her own death-like stillness while she formed theories and conclusions, Booth fidgeted, paced, stretched, mumbled to himself and sometimes even swung a hockey stick around, she found it quite endearing.

"In order to compare the two cases it would be nessecery to open Sweets case file." This matter of fact revealation got the Agents attention. Booth seemed to be weighing his options. Bones was right they needed that file. Basic information like Andrews name and conviction were public domain. But the details of such a case were sealed, requiring a warrant. A warrent would be difficult to obtain on a hunch. There was another avenue available, though he was loathe to use it, talk to Sweets about personally requesting the files. His distaste for that option must have been very evident on his features because even Bones picked up the cues. "It would be difficult .." his wifes blue eyes met with his. Bones was going to finish her thought but a knock at the door interrupted her, another rapping on the door and then the familiar tone of the psychologist voice, "Uh, Agent Booth?.." had said through the now cracked door..."is it ok?.. obviously trying not to barge right in.

"Yeah, Sweets c'mon in." Booth called in a weary tone." What's up?"

The young man stepped up to Booths desk, a manilla folder in his hand,

"Oh nothings up...", a quick, disarming grin crossing his face, " Agent Shaw asked if I could bring this to you, I believe she was on the phone to her sons school, he got sick, said she would return as soon as he was taken care of." He set the folder down. "So..how is the new case going? Have you ID'd the victim yet? Any leads?"

Despite the attempt to sound like casual chit chat, Booth could hear Sweets eagerness to jump in and lend a hand. It was time to find out how eager.

"Actually, we have an identification, Brian Forrester age five."

Booth glanced at Bones, he had made the desicion to bring the shrink into the case on his own... and could feel his partners disapproving stare boreing through him._ Too late to turn back now__. _

"I gotta warn you Sweets the details of his death are pretty gruesome...and ... well you'll understand when you see." Booth picked up the file of Brian Forrester and handed it to the psychologist.

Sweets took the file then sat down in the chair beside Dr. Brennen , opening the folder he made quick work of it, his chocolate brown eyes scanning the pages of various reports and photos. Eyebrows furrowed deep in concentration. He was lost in the details of the file. Seemingly oblivious to the two sets of eyes watching intently as he studied.

The biting of his lower lip and deeply concerned look the only indicators that Booth could mark as a tell that Sweets was disturbed by what he read in Brian Forresters file. He wondered what was going through the young mans mind when he saw the lash marks in the lab photos...Booth was suprised he couldn't read his colleague better_. Sweets was playing it close to the vest__._That bothered Booth.

Brennen was upset with her partner for making the decision to bring Sweets in on the case without even discussing it with her first. But what was done was done and no useful purpose would be served by dwelling on such feelings. Currently, her attention centered on the man seated in the chair to her left. Despite the stylishly taylored suit, he gave the appearance of a lanky youth cramming for a final exam. The pace with which his long fingers flipped through the material suprised Brennen. She remembered how she had once chastised him for being a slow reader.___Prehaps my original observation had been wrong____. _She could not discern any notable changes in his emotional state, although her grasp on the subtle physical nuances of human emotion was tenuous at best. So she ,like Booth, waited until he finished.

Sweets had been grateful when Agent Shaw had asked him to deliver the file to Booth. It was a legitimate reason to visit the Agent. _As__ opposed to my original "just popping in.." lameness__._He had nothing to do for the rest of the day and hoped Booth could use him on the current case. He didn't know much about it, a young child found in a closet of an old Victorian. Sweets shuddered ever so slighty. He knew a little about the dark loneliness a locked closet could impose. He felt his own unfortunate past could give the team invaluable insights into this killer. That's why when Booth shot down his offer of help in the elevator he had resolved to try again. That's why he was coming off that same elevator at just the right moment to run into a worried Agent Shaw so anxious to get to her son she enlisted "the shrink" to deliver the file to Agent Booth. A task he gladly excepted. He had knocked on Booths door_A __courtesy Booth often neglected to return__._and received a slow invitation inside. Once in, he noticed both of them seemed tense, and wondered if he had interrupted something_. God am I glad I ran into Shaw and have this file!_ Sweets set down the information, and casually began "chatting" about Booths newest case. _Don't seem too eager._

It worked! That's how he came to be sitting in Agent Booths office pouring over the file of one Brian Forrester. _Well this explains Booths reluctance to invite him in on the case. Better than the self-depricating reasons I had entertained earlier. I guess. _Once he had completely digested the entire file he remained silent for moment collecting his thoughts and preparing for the enevitable comparisions Booth and Brennen would make between him and the poor kid. _B__ut any connection was improbable. Andrews was imprisoned._

"Well, Sweets?" Sweets eyes shifted up from the papers and met Booths anxious stare. Without answering, the young man straightened in the chair then placed the file on Agent Booths desk. He also gave a sidewards glance to Brennen who wore same look of concern she had had while she studied him studying the file. He drew in a deep breath then began," Agent Booth, , there is no question that the person who committed this crime is full of rage, shows no reverence for life, derives pleasure through..."

"I know Sweets, the guys a monster, I need to know what YOU think about the details of this case." Booths tone was firm but soft at the same time.

"I understand that you may see a few similarities between myself and this case, Agent Booth but, really its improbable..." Sweets started.

" A few? Sweets look at the picture, the age, in foster care, and then there's the wh... injuries." Booth stopped there. He knew Sweets saw it all, he just didn't want to see.

"Yes, Agent Booth I saw the pictures, read everything... and that's just it... what that child suffered...," Sweets looked down shaking his head slightly, " all of those things... did not happen to me.."

Booth was stunned by what he was hearing. Not the actual words. But the sense of uncertainty that laced itself around the declarative statement. The Agents gut was sensing something was amiss._C__an it be the brillant kid shrink dosen't remember everything? He was what only four ..five..it could be possible._

"And your positive about that?" Booth moved from behind the desk and leaned against it, directly in front of a increasingly agitated Sweets.

"Of course! I'm sure... I think I would remember if ..all... of that had happened." He spat the words out angrily." So see no connection."

"Really? Because I'm not so sure.." Booth threw back.

The exchange between Booth and Sweets had become uncomfortablely heated. Bones wanted to bring both men back to the case at hand.

" Dr. Sweets, I am sorry if the facts of this case have caused you any emotional turmoil. It was presumptuous of Booth and I to make conclusions about your past, based on our limited knowledge of it." Her words stopped both men. Booth looked at his wife and partner, she had interrupted him! And was making apologies on his behalf? He felt a bit betrayed_P__ayback for not consulting her no doubt_. Sweets stopped glaring at Booth. Turning to face Brennen his mood lightened noticeably, one did not take an apology from the usually stoic Brennen lightly.

" Uh..thank you.. for ..understanding ..and the apology. I'm sorry too." he looked back at Agent Booth. " I understand...but really the only injury we have in common are the ...lash marks." _And the closet let's not foget that._ He hoped that was enough to convince Agent Booth to move on. The look on Booths face though remained skeptical.

"Ok. Fine..easy way to settle this ..Sweets, I want you to request your case file be opened to me, we can make a true comparison of the facts...memory withstanding ..and move on." Booth dropped into his chair as he announced his ultimatum.

Bones was giving Booth a withering look, he wasn't helping her to diffuse the tension at all. Although she had to concede getting the files would help resolve the questions. Dr. Sweets stood up, as if he was going bolt from the room. Instead he rubbed his forehead for a few seconds before rakeing his fingers back through his dark curls.

"Fine, Booth I'll release or request whatever files you feel you need to see."

- the next day back at Booths office,early morning-

All the requests had been made, and authorizations cleared. Booth was busy at his computer attempting to find case files and reports for Sweets. He made a few phone calls too. What he was finding was infuriating him. He snatched up his phone and placed a couple of more calls.

Dr Brennen knew something was wrong when she received Booths early morning call. She had just settled into her morning work routine herself and doubted Booth would have had time enough to thoroughly review Dr. Sweets files. Booths aggravated tone confirmed her suspicions. She rushed out of the lab to meet Booth in his office. It was quiet in the FBI building, well quiet until she came close to her partners hallway. She could hear two very familiar voices arguing. Bones opened the door to find Booth pacing around and Sweets standing leaning against his hands down on the desk, head hung down, in a defeated pose, but his tone was steady even as his voice rose through the office.

"I told you, Agent Booth, I made the appropriate requests..how should I know how the files were destroyed or when. I honestly never looked into those files before...better left in the past.. so no. I have no clue why they would be gone!"

"Booth, what does mean gone?" This did not sound good.

Agent Booth, sat down at his computer, turning the monitor so Bones could see the error codes and "files not found".

He proceeded to go into other databases, courts, child welfare services, medical database. Each time the file was completely gone or grossly incomplete.

"I even called to see if I could get the hardcopies. But it seems they have all been misplaced or destroyed as well. What the hells going on?"

Sweets flopped down into a chair, letting out a heavy sigh, " Pelant...had to be.. he is the only person who would have pulled this off.."

frowned, "Are you implying that Chistopher Pelant killed Brian Forrester as well, Dr. Sweets?"

"What? Oh no..depending on when the files were destroyed...I believe it was just another way for Pelant to attack...me..you know have me killed... destroy records of my exsistence... my work." Sweets was angered by how deeply Pelants "games" still affected all their lives despite having been dead for nearly two months. "The fact that this case came up is probably coincidental.

"Yeah, but why just the files from your childhood?" Booth wondered.

" Prehaps he did not have an opportunity to finish. And attacking recent information would have a called attention to him he did not want. Angela should look into the technical aspects." Brennen suggested.

"I guess.",said Booth " but now what do we do without those files?" The three sat in silence for few moments. Bones was first to break it.

" I believe I may have a solution, but it would rely heavily upon your cooperation . A forensic examination of your skeletal structure as well as examination for scarring that would be documented and compared to the trauma found on Brian Forrester." She suggested cautiously.

" Hey that's an idea Bones, what do you say Sweets, its just Bones..."

"Well actually Booth it would be and myself...she is in charge of the lab and is more profecient in matters concerning skin and flesh." Bones interjected.

" No." Sweets voice was quiet, "I... can't...I.."

Booth leaned forward, "Look Sweets, you know if there was any other way we would do that. But this is what we've got."

"I will get Cam to clear the lab, Sweets. It will not take much time." gently assured him.

" No." Sweets started to get up to leave, Booth quickly picked up the file and pulled out the picture of grinning Brian Forrester, leaned across his desk thrusting the picture in front of the young mans face.

"You said you wanted to help... so help." Face to face with the victim, Sweets felt compelled to relent.

"Fine." It was a defeated, angry word shoved through gritted teeth. The chair creaked as the psychologist flopped back into it.

Bones was immediately on the phone, consulting quietly with Cam about her plan, the delicate nature of the task, the need for privacy and how those goals would be met. Conversation over, Brennen spoke as she stood gathering her jacket and purse,

"The preparations are being made. I will go now, I have a few things to get ready as well, Booth, , I will expect you at the lab by 10am., and I will have the lab cleared by then." She gave them a goodbye nod then hurried out.

-Jeffersonion Legal Medico Lab-

Camille Sayroyan took the vibrating cell phone from the pocket of her cobalt lab coat, when she saw whose face was lit up on the screen her own features lit up with a beautiful smile. The pathologist wandered into her office as she put the device up to her ear.

"Good morning sleepyhead," she teased then chuckled at Aristoos response, something about it was her fault for keeping him up all night.

"Lunch? Sounds wonderful, so where?," She laughed again, her elegant features blushed at her boyfriends suggestion lunch in bed. _My god! I'm like a giggling schoolgirl. But hell, why not enjoy the perks of a young romantic man._

" Sounds wonderful, I'll call you before I leave...oh wait I'm getting another call its Dr. Brennen, I need to take this...I'll call you back... love you.", Camille tapped the screen, "Hello ...I see.. oh my, well yes of course I understand, I will send everyone out for an extended lunch, reward for their hard work, can I ask who? ..but why? Okay fill me in when you get here." Now that was unexpected. She sighed then hit call under the profile pic of Aristoos smiling face, that lunch date would have to wait, " Hey yeah...so ..I'm sorry but something very important just came up I'm afraid I won't be able to do lunch...I know, me too..I'll be so busy I'll probably just have a powerbar or something..how about we make dinner plans instead? Great!..Thanks for understanding...now go do something fun its your day off!", Cam chuckled and shook her head, as he whined he was trying to do something fun. Now she had a lab to clear, she strolled into Angelas office, the artist was at a computer, sorting through images of clothing labels, no doubt to see if the pjs were special.

" Hey Cam, what's up?", Angela had noted her bosses determined visage and purposeful stride, she was in boss mode.

"Angela I need your help, it seems that a few executive board members are coming into the lab around 10am, they want to have a meeting, look around a bit, anyway I've decided that it would be best if the lab was cleared of staff until the meeting is finished, do you think Hodgens and yourself could help keep everyone away, just a few hours, til 1 pm, take an extended lunch, the Jeffersonion will pick up the tab.. but don't mention budget meeting, don't need people worrying over budget cuts or their jobs, just say its in recognition for their hardwork." Cams coffee brown eyes beamed as she smiled at her co-worker.

"Recognition of hard work, huh?", Angela was dubious. _Smile all you want Cam but somethings up._But Angela didn't feel like arguing and a long lunch would be nice. "Okay, Cam, Hodgens and I will round up the kiddies and keep them about Brennen? Is she even here? I haven't seen her yet."

" was with Booth, last we spoke, I explained this to her as well, so I don't imagine she is interested it meeting a bunch of business execs." Cam turned to leave, "Thank you Angela!"

Angela watched her boss exit the scene. She checked the time 9:30am time to get this brunch started. She picked up Jack from his bug room, explained their mission and they set about herding the few lab techs and interns towards the doors. The offer of free food made the task a breeze. By 9:55 the gaggle of excited lab geeks were gone. The lab was completely devoid of life, well except Hodgens office, tons of life in there, but every person was gone save .Sayroyan patiently sat at her desk, waiting for her "patient" to arrive.

The ride over to the Jeffersonian was agonizingly tense. Normally Agent Booth relished the moments of silence, that were few ,when the talkative doc was a passenger in his SUV. But the kid hadn't said more than three words since Bones had left ahead of them, choosing instead to communicate in shakes and nods of his head. _I understand he's pissed about the intrusion into his private life.. Pelant strikes again! Bastard! And he's obviously not too keen on me either right now, hhmm I'll make it up too him... important thing is the case..solve the case.. then patch up hurt feelings later._ He felt relief as he swung the black vehicle into the parking space, finally here , he relaxed a bit, unbuckled, the door creaking as he swung it wide. Before he jumped out he noticed Sweets hadn't made any move to release the seatbelt, he was still posed elbow propped against the window, right hand balled into a fist holding up his head, three fingers of his left hand tapping away on his left thigh to some imaginary beat. Big brown eyes staring through the windshield at nothing. He had been that way the entire trip.

"Sweets!? Hey, look I know your not happy about this, but let's just go get it over with right? Now get out of the car! Come on." Booth hoped that came across more caring than it seemed. Either way, it worked, the FBI shrink was departing the SUV.

Booth made his way through the lab doors ahead of the psychologist but waited, the doors swooshed open as the young man ambled inside. The pair set off towards Brennens office. She met them at the doorway,

" if you will follow me, I have made the proper adjustments to the xray equipment, since your living and not thousand year old remains, now you will be perfectly safe." Sweets followed as she continued talking about issues of safety...Booth watched them go, then made a beeline for Cams office.

"Camille." Booth said, he knew it irked her.

"Seely...don't call me that" the forensic pathologist shot back from her desk. Cam sat with toned arms folded over each other, she looked up at Booth,

"Now mind telling me why I cleared my lab, why we are examining Sweets? Dr. Brennen mentioned something about files destroyed and Pelant. What's going on?" Booth settled into a chair opposite Cam and related the entire story so far. When he finished he noted the womans response.

"Wow, that..that is a lot to take in, so you believe what may have happened to could be connected to the current case of Brian Forrester? But you said his foster dad is definately locked away, so what?...Do you think Pelant could have.. " her perfectly arched brows furrowed in thought.

In the xray department of the lab, Brennen directed Sweets, who had dressed down to a white undershirt and a pair of shorts, to lie down on the table of a large piece of scanning equipment, he complied silently and remained still as the equipment hummed to life. After several minutes returned from the control room, " That concludes this part of the examination , you may report to Dr. Sayroyan now." The anthropologists matter of fact professionalism was actually a comfort to Sweets. He worried more about the next part.

Sweets gathered his up his professional attire. He felt awkward walking across the lab in just shorts, a tee and sock feet. That feeling increased as he met Agent Booth leaving Cams office. _God he hated this!_

"See there Sweets, now that didn't take long!" Booth said as he passed. Sweets just locked Booth with what he was pretty sure was a "go to hell" look, before shuffling through door. Booth just shrugged it off.

Cam stood at the rear section of her work space, she had placed a tall metal stool with a black vinyl cushioned seat beside the stainless steel examine table she used with her usual customers. It was within reach of the lights and the magnifiing glass she often used. She was nervous, she dealt with the dead not the living. Also this was a someone she was friends with. Through the years she had grown quite fond of their FBI shrink. Despite his youth he had proven himself time and again to be an excellent profiler and therapist. She had even survived his romance with intern Daisy Wyck. She had gone to him for advice dealing with co-workers as well as her daughter Michelle. He was always there when she had needed an attentive ear. But now she thought how little the pyschologist ever opened up to her about things in his life. She knew he had been in the foster system then adopted, she knew via Daisy that both his parents had passed on before he started at the Bureau. She also knew he played piano quite well and most recently discovered his Chessmaster past. But when Booth revealed that Sweets had scars similar to the victim she understood that there was so much more she didn't know. And here he was now, just inside the doorway, his suit draped over his long arms, a pair of very stylish leather shoes dangling from two fingers of his right hand. His look was a combination of embarassment and anger. _Anger at who? Not me I hope__._

" come in, just set those on the couch...okay...first off let me assure you that anything ..." pausing as she pushed the door shut and motioned for the man to sit on the other end of the couch. She eased into her desk chair then swiveled to face the doctor. Sweets had done as asked, she turned to find him wringing his hands, looking past her and around the room. In fact it was pretty obvious he was evading her direct gaze. She continued,"... anything that I find through this exam is completely confidential.", at the word Sweets locked eyes with her before rolling his then looking away again. _I know exactly how you feel, as a victim of identity theft, I know nothing is really private anymore__. _pushed on. Asking him to sit on the stool. Which he did.

"Okay, I'm afraid you will need to remove your shirt." He sighed, then pulled off the tee. Cam positioned herself behind him and adjusted an overhead lamp. In the bright light, the scars that criss-crossed from shoulder to shoulder stood out. Cam felt herself gapeing and closed her mouth. She began to count_..twenty-two, twenty-three...damn! _O..okay I need for you to lean forward a bit.." she felt a slight flinch as she gently placed her gloved hand on his back to guide him forward until she could get a clear view of his lower back. At first it appeared there may not be anything to find when she noticed the faint white circular scars she counted _..three, four..five...damn! _

"Alright, you may sit back up...she gently brushed back the umber locks of hair behind his right ear, the lines were faint, but there they were two equidisdent lines. turned to fill in her findings, usually she would use a voice recorder but she decided Dr. Sweets might not enjoy a play by play listing of his injuries over the years. The forensic pathologist came around to face Sweets, but he gazed down at his lap. She took a gloved index finger and gingerly lifted the young mans chin until he had to look her directly in the eyes, " ..Lance ..your okay?" It was both a question and an assurance. "Mmm huh." Came his closed mouth response. Satisfied he was fine, she continued her search, a slightly raised scar about an inch long revealed itself as she moved away her finger.

"Got it when I attempted to jump a creek on my bike. I was eleven." Cam almost jumped at the sound of Sweets voice he had been so quite. N_ice to see him relax a little__._

"It had been a really awesome jump, but the landing went so totally wrong, ...handlebar caught me right there.." he seemed lost in the memory for a moment.

"That happens when people try to be Evil Knevil." She shot him a grin as she studied his chest and torso. Noteing the scars left by the bullet wound Agent Sparling had inflicted a few years back. She took his right arm by the hand, lifting so she could examine it, as she turned it so his wrist would be up.

"Who?" Cam stopped, and met Sweets quizzical look with momentary confusion. "Who is Evil Knevil?"

"Oh uh you know the stuntsman ...always jumping things on his motorcycle?_ Hm was it that long ago? Wonder how much I'm dating myself with that reference. Is he really too young to remember that guy? _, Cam picked up a small flashlight like device that emitted various types of light under which minute details stand out and turned back to exam Sweets upturned forearm.

"Oh yeah thats right." Sweets said "He's the guy who wanted to jump the Grand Canyon ,right? " Again Cam paused for moment to think, then without looking up nodded "Uh huh"._ Whats up a minute ago he barely said a word and now he wont shut up__. _She glanced up, though the banter had been cheerful, Sweets face was anything but relaxed. Deep brown orbs under furrowed brows were transfixed on the arm she held with her gloved hand. His lips were parted and he was inhalely and exhaling in a slow controlled manner. _Son of bitch, he was trying to distract her with small talk! Why? _She returned to the examination. With the lights assist she could make out very faint lines wrapping around the mans wrist. Almost unnoticeable by regular light. As she moved the light upward, Cam felt a slight tug as Sweets pulled his arm back, but she held firm. She proceeded to move the light over the inside of his forearm. A thin white line began about two inches from his wrist and snaked almost six inches up his arm. Beside it a second shorter scar. Cam quickly took up his left arm finding similar scars there too. Cam stood there holding both arms up by his wrists. Cam noticed the arms she held had were trembling, "My God...Lance...", lifting her gaze Cam was startled when Sweets suddenly jerked away from her grasp folding his arms against his stomach. The young mans head was down and his shoulders stooped. As if he were giving himself a hug. Cam could hear the once controlled breathes becoming faster and shorter, he was shakily rocking back and forth. _Dear God how do I handle this__? _Cam could see the beginnings of a panic attack and knew she should help the doctor to calm down. But she didn't know what to say. On the one hand, her motherly self wanted to just wrap him in a big hug and tell him that none of that changed how anyone would see him. That he was overeacting. But her own emotional response to this new found knowledge belied that. The thought that this brilliant young pyschologist in front of her ,to whom she had divulged secrets and trusted with the emotional well-being of her staff, her family and herself, had attempted to end his life ...angered her. Why? It wasn't because of the act itself, he had his reasons, but that in all the years they had worked together, been friends...like family. Not once had the pyschologist who perscribed talk therapy to heal emotional ills, to communicate honestly. Not once had he opened up to her about his past in a meaningful way. Her dark brown eyes were wet and hot with unshed tears. She wanted to ask questions. When? Where? And most importantly. Why? But confronted with the distraught person in front of her all she managed was a very weak, "Oh Lance...its okay." she wanted to say more, something better, but was interrupted by the low whispering voice of Sweets speaking, as if to himself.

"No! Its not Okay! No one needs to know, none of you, needed to know about ...this. These ...these are mine.." the pyschologist finally raised his head as he spat out the last word in anger tinged with shame. Chocolate brown eyes gleemed as tears pooled before falling down flushed cheeks. Cam was held by his gaze as he continued, "I...I made a mistake once...and I hurt the people who loved me...cared for me so much..and I..did th-this! " He hung his head once again, staring at his now out stretched arms.

"I had hoped you wouldn't notice..no one ever does. My parents.. they had a specialist..in reconstructive surgury...make corrections..did a great job leaving such fine lines...no ones ever noticed...not even Daisy.", Sweets shot a glance at the forensic pathologist as a he gave a sneer and rolled his eyes, "Should've figured ..you.. would catch it..." he let out a tired sigh and ran both hands through his dark brown locks as he seemed to gather his thoughts. He had taken control of his breathing and was calmer. Cam was suprised and stung by the barb but remained quiet. She could tell he wasn't through. When he began again his voice had modulated, it had become gentle, soft and almost soothing. Cam recognised it as the same tone he used to sooth upset witnesses or gain the trust of a suspect. C_onvince her to give Daisy another shot__._

"You know , you really don't have to tell Agent Booth or Dr. Brennen right?...I mean there is no reason to..this has nothing to do with the case...I ..did ..this." Sweets rational argument continued to flow out "You can understand,can't you? How ...difficult it would become if my patients or the Agents with whom I work knew about this part of my...past. I have worked so hard..." now the controlled tone was losing out to a rising panic, "...its taken so much to get here... Please ...I'm sorry...sorry you had to learn about it...like this...I know I must seem ..foolish..weak...", tears were threatening to fall again. "...it was a stupid thing ...I was stupid...I'm so stu.."

"Just stop! Stop..",Cam ordered, the dam had broke and tears were streaming down, Cam gripped Sweets hands, "...you are not stupid...okay? Everyone makes mistakes. Everyone has a right to privacy. So...as long as these scars have no correlation to the Forrester case I will keep this to myself. However, at some point you and I will be having a long discussion. I have a few questions I'd appreciate answered. But for now we will keep this just between us. Okay?"

A wide-eyed Lance Sweets felt a wave of relief wash over him ,as well as the warmth of compassion his friend was expressing for him. " Thank you.", he said as he slipped down from the stool, released from Cams grip, he wrapped his long arms around the Pathologist toned shoulders in a gentle friendly embrace which much to his relief she did not reject but returned in kind. All the tension from seconds earlier seemed to melt away.

Aristoo couldn't help but feel disappointed that his lunch plans had fell through. He loved spending every moment he could with the gorgous and brilliant . He was a hopeless romantic so the desicion to suprise his girlfriend with a lovingly prepared lunch was an easy one. His lady deserved more than some old powerbar. As he made his way into the lab Aristoo was suprised by the emptiness of the place. To have such a busy day of work no one seemed to be working. The thought struck him Cam might not even be here, but as he drew nearer her office he could see the lights and hear her voice. _She must be dictating her findings__._ Wanting to suprise her he gently turned the doorknob and pushed the door open holding up the small red cooler bag that held their repast.

"Lunch is ser..wait what hell?..Cam what's going on? ...Dr. Sweets ?..", Aristoo had walked in to find his beloved Camille embracing the young FBI psychologist, as the pair broke apart he noticed a distinct lack of clothing on the man. Aristoo dropped the arm with the cooler and let the bag hit the floor. Noticing Sweets clothing on the end of the couch he snatched the jacket up and shook the ball of cloth in Cams direction. "So this is your idea of a working lunch hm? What exactly are you working on?" His face was flushed with anger and hurt.

"Oh no, Aristoo, what are you doing here? Oh no, wait, its not what you think", Cam stepped closer to her love, "this" she glanced toward Sweets who was in the process of pulling his tee shirt over his head while mumbling something to the affect of ( "I'm not believing this..") " this is completely innocent." She maintained an even reassuring tone, she could see confusion and disbelief persisted in Aristoos mahogany eyes. He stood in the doorway and continued to glare at Cam and Sweets in turn.

"Really?! Innocent? Then maybe Sweets will tell me what innocent reason he has for being half naked , with his arms around the woman I love in an empty lab? I think I have a right to know what's going on!". He was nearly shaking with anger as he made his demands. Sweets had moved toward the couch and was hastily gathering up his clothing and shoes. He had had enough of the intrusions and accusations. Sweets stepped towards the door.

"You are wrong, Mr Vaseri, on two fronts, one there is nothing going on between and myself..for Gods sake, she's like a sister to me and second what WAS going on IS none of your business! Now, if you will release my jacket I'll get out of here so you can apologize to Cam for doubting her integrity." The cold harshness of the words spoken, combined with a look of anger that seemed to equal his own, shocked the intern. Staring into the younger mans unyeilding gaze he saw no hint of guilt...only anger. As a result he gave no resistence as Dr. Sweets took his jacket and brushed past him. Left alone now with Cam, Aristoo turned to find she had edged up to his side. Her lovely features full of concern. "Camille...I'm sorry..I thought...", his deep voice was soft and apologetic. Cam stopped him, " Oh Aristoo, I understand what you thought you saw, but believe me I was just comforting a friend...okay?..And everything that went on prior to your arrival was purely professional. And no I can not tell you why. Promise me you'll keep presence here confidential?" Cam gently placed her palm against his cheek leaning into him until their foreheads touched, maintaining her passionate gaze then brushing his other cheek with a soft kiss. All thought of anger and jealousy evaporated as he enveloped his dark beauty in his embrace. Whatever it was that he had stumbled upon he was certain it was indeed innocent. "I understand. I promise."

Cam smiled, "I assume that's lunch in the bag? I'm starving. But first I have some business to finish here. If you don't mind waiting a bit maybe we could meet in the rose garden?"

"Of course I don't mind, just call and I'll meet you there. Until then..", Aristoo took her hand and stole a quick kiss then left.

Cam sighed as she watched the love of her life retreat in defeat. Then a smile crept across her features as she thought about how she would make things up to him later. The thought fleeted away when she noticed the blue silk tie hanging over the arm of the sofa, partially stuck between the cushions. _Time to finish this. _She rescued the tie from its trap and strolled toward Dr Brennens office.

_This is a seriously wretched day__. _After leaving Cams office Lance dashed into the nearest restroom to get dressed, maybe regain a bit of dignity before heading into Brennens office. Pants, shoes, belt, dress shirt, tie. W_here the hell is my tie__? _"Arrgh!" He just wanted to get dressed, get this over with. Looking at his reflection he took stock of the man staring back. His eyes were rimmed red from that embarrassing episode of crying in front Cam. His tousled brown hair seemed a bit too unruly. Leaning over the sink he splashed cool water on his face, then ran his hand through his hair attempting to reign in the stray locks. The last thing he wanted was Booth and Brennen to dig into what happened in Cams office. He knew Cam meant what she said about keeping his little secret just that. But, he also knew B&B could be very persuasive. _Hell that's part of the reason I'm here. Best to calm down, put up a good front and get the Hell outta here. _Straightening up he grabbed the dark grey jacket and slung his lanky form into it. Scowling as he noted its crumpled appearance _Damn Aristoo! _He ran his hands down the jacket straightening the lapels and smoothing down pockets. One more look in the mirror, looking calm and collected he was ready now.

Booth was bored. Bones was at her desk completely engrossed in her asessment of Sweets scans. He wanted to ask what she thought but knew she would balk at making any conclusions until she had completed her comparisons. Instead he sat down on the couch took out his phone and placed a call to Agent Shaw. No new leads or developments to report since he had left the office. Hanging up, Booth scanned the area for something to read. All he found were a few very scientific looking journals. He opted for the only one that had a picture on the front cover, of some early human ancestor. As he flipped through the less than exciting articles, Booths thoughts wandered to how complicated this case was becoming. Pelants hacks into Sweets records had been thorough. _It had to be Pelant, I mean who else would it be? _The hard copies of files pertaining to his times in the foster system could not be found, a computer virus had hit their system wipeing out files that included those of Lance Sweets. His physicians computer system had suffered similar problems as well an unfortunate fire that destroyed most of the office. System after system had been hit, even court records, the basic records exisited but were incomplete, the details of the case were just gone. And not many people from that case were still around. The caseworker, judge, and prosecuting attorney had all passed away. Attempts to find the lead investigator, who had retired and moved away years ago, were coming up empty. Booth wondered just how long had Pelant been hacking away at Sweets past, cutting here and there over time so as to remain unnoticed. Had it been before or after his thwarted attempt to have that girl assasinate Sweets in the DC streets? Pelant had used Sweets work against him every chance he got. He had used the pyschologists insights about each of them manipulating their weak spots. But In the end they had won. Pelant was dead and gone, his ghost however refused to leave them alone. Disgusted by that thought Booth smacked the boring periodical onto the coffee table, exhaling in a loud aggravated sigh.

"Booth? You seem upset?", Brennen looked up from her computer screen upon hearing her partners heavy sigh as well as the heavy handed treatment of her journal. " I have compared the skeletal injuries of Sweets and Brian F."

"Yeah Bones and? " Booth said impatiently his musings about Pelant souring his mood. But looking at Bones knitted brow and pursed lips he had the answer he hadn't wanted.

"There are too many similarities to be simple happenstance." Bones said werily, visably shaken. Leaving his seat on the sofa for a position behind Bones, Booth gently placed his hands on her shoulders as he leaned over her to look at the images on the screen. Bones placed one hand over Booths. Reassured by her husbands embrace, she pointed out each injury on side by side images. Those that corresponded were highlighted red any others were highlighted yellow. Booth had thought the number of matching fractures and damage was bad enough but seeing the amount of yellow on Sweets side was disturbing. Another broken arm, broken leg and various other injuries he would leave to Bones to delineate. _He had to remember all that, no way you forget that much pain__._

At that moment Sweets appeared in the doorway, suit disheveled and his face flushed.

" Hey." He offered in subdued greeting, then took a seat in the chair opposite Brennens desk.

Booth observed the young man as he sat down in front of them. His suit seemed to have suffered some since earlier, no tie, water spots on shirt, hair not its usually tamed self, face pink and those red, glassy eyes told the tale.

" So how are ya holding up there Sweets?", Booth kept it casual. But the profiler knew Booths ever observant gaze had been taking note of him since he had came in. And with that single question Sweets knew Booth knew.

"I'm fine Agent Booth, just tired." He answered with a finality he hoped Booth would accept. No such luck.

"Are you sure because..." Booth was interrupted as swept into the room.

" I found your tie." The length of blue silk dangling from the hand of her outstreached arm. Hugging the clipboard in the other arm to her chest. She approached Sweets, dropped the tie into his hands, then patted his shoulder as she manuvered around the desk to Brennen's side. Sweets acknowledged the kind gesture with a sheepish grin, and a quiet "Thanks." Garnering a warm smile and "Your welcome." from Cam.

Booth watched the exchange, understanding that whatever had upset Sweets earlier Camille had no doubt helped see him through it. No sense beating at a dead horse. He didn't finish his query.

and quietly played comparative show and tell with their findings, an interested Booth hovering behind them. Sweets had already surmised by their hushed tones and Bones not so subtle glances at him with big blue concerned eyes what the verdict would be. The injuries correlated. So the killer was familiar with his past abuse. It couldn't be Jason Andrews he was still locked up. Pelant? Possible, but he was dead. However Pelant had accessed all his records, there's no telling who he could have recruited to do the neferious deed. The killer was intelligent, extremely organized. A sociopath with sadistic tendecies. He sat staring at nothing, his hands absentmindedly working the bit of blue silk into a twist, as he built the profile in his mind. Booths booming voice broke the trance, "Sweets! Are you listening? Bones was saying something to you"

He stopped the destruction of his neckwear, to see Brennen had turned the moniter around so he could view the side by side images of his and B. Forresters skeletons with the corresponding injures highlighted in red.

Even he was surprised by the amount of red he was seeing on the image. Not just red, there were other injuries, not present on Forrester, highlighted yellow. From more recent past. Those he could easily recall. The others were harder. Over the years he had made a conscious effort not think about that period of his life in any detail. He accepted that it happened, that it wasn't his fault, so why dwell on ugly details. He remembered some things, the closet door slamming on his hands, being backhanded across the face and the whipping that nearly ended him. The rest was a blur of pain that he would rather keep buried. Maybe not the most pyschologically healthy approach but it had worked thus far. Until now. Booth and Brennen were probably expecting he would rattle off how each injury had happened. They will just have to be disappointed.

"Looking at all the evidence there can be no doubt the death of Brian Forrester was patterned after the traumatic abuse you suffered as a child."Bones paused thoughtfully, "So how should we proceed ,Booth?"

"First I want to see how Angela has come along with the hacked files, see exactly what Pelant did with the information. I know Andrews is out of the picture but I still think he may have painted a picture for some creep in prison. Bones, we'll head up to the prison and see who his friends were. And finally, Sweets, look man I know this has been a lot to deal with but I need to know as much as you remember about ...everything...ok. Not here not now. We'll go back to the office. You can think about things there. Okay?

Sweets said nothing in response to Booth. Just nodded slowly as he departed his seat and moved towards the door. He was ready to leave, back to the solitude of his office. Booth waved approval of his departure, he would meet him at the suv in a few minutes. Sweets left.

"Ok Cam, Bones, what do you think? First does this even remotely look like Pelant could have done it. You said the boy died three months ago, Pelant would have been alive then._Eight __months ago. Pelant killed agents, attempted to have Sweets killed, failed, but did manage to screw with the kids mind enough to move him to leave, to "clear his mind"__._

"While the injuries are similar, they do not show the degree of exactness or skill set that Christopher Pelant had demonstrated in previous murders. Pelant would have wanted perfection. It was not him." Brennen declared.

"Ok then that leaves someone tied to Andrews. I'll head to the Hoover drop off Sweets then come pick you up, alright?" Booth left. It was 12:50, lab staff was filtering back from their lunch. Booth and Sweets managed to slip away without notice.

Cam locked the file concerning Dr. Sweets in the drawer of her desk. She picked up her phone to call Aristoo, she was starving for his company, and lunch would be nice too. The soft rumble of his voice as he answered instantly elicited an unconscience grin from the forensic pathologist as they planned their rendevous in the rose garden.

"So did everything go well with the meeting?" Cam had just ended the call with Aristoo, but was still admiring his image on the smartphone screen, Angela must have noticed, the smile on her face beamed with approval.

"Making some steamy romantic plans for this evening?" Angela wondered hopefully.

"Lunch actually, and nothing too steamy." Camille was amused by Angelas deflated pout. "And yes the meeting went well." She added casually, as she gathered her purse preparing to leave.

" That's good. Hey, funny thing, I thought I saw Booth and Sweets pulling out of the parking lot as Jack and I were pulling in. Anything new come up in the Forrester case?" Angela watched her bosses slight pause before turning to face her in the doorway.

"Oh..um ..they were just dropping off .", Cam realized at that moment Angela and Hodgens probably needed in on the Sweets connection soon. They needed Angela to look into Pelants hacking. As soon as she came back from lunch. She would let Booth, Brennen and Sweets know then bring Hodgens and Angela up to speed_. Everyone on the same page. Yeah. After lunch. _

"Okay, I will be back around two fifteen.", Camille Sayroyan shuffled past Angela who followed her out of the office. She didn't stop to look back as she disappeared thru the sliding doors exiting the lab.

_Okay, now that was not like Cam. I know she has a hunky lunch date waiting, but that was weird. I'll just visit Bren, see what she's up to__. _Angela strode toward her bestfriends office. She found the anthropologist behind her desk staring at some xray images on the screen, a legal pad full of neat notes under her hand with pen at the ready.

"Hey Sweetie, haven't seen you around much today." The artist observed Brennen close the screen then close the notepad, then turn to her.

"I was with Booth. Was there something you needed Angela?"Her blank tone gave nothing away. Angela had long ago accepted her friend could come across as impersonal, even with those she had a close connection with. This was one of those moments.

"Um no, no Hon. You were with Booth, any new developments in the case? ",Angela waited for Brennens reaction.

"Actually, Booth is on his way here now. He and I are following up on a hunch he has about the killer being an ex-convict. I will keep you informed as soon I have more information." She smiled weakly. At that moment the muffled rifts of "Hot Blooded" emanated from her coat pocket. Checking her phone Dr. Brennen stood up grabbing the leatherbound notepad and her purse.

"That's Booth. I have to go Angela. We can talk when I return." She said backing out of her office, then disappeared. Once again Angela was left standing, feeling left out of the loop.

Awkward silence. The entire way back to the FBI headquarters. Agent Booth wasn't sure how to broach the subject of the physical abuse Sweets had experienced or ask him to casually discuss the details with him. Sweets wasn't offering to talk about it. They had known each other for six years. In that time he had watched Sweets go from an annoying kid shrink to a trusted friend and colleague. Ever since the night Bones had said they could "make room" in their lives for a "baby duck" they had tried to be there when he needed family. He had lived with them briefly. After the Daisy debacle. Despite his grumping Booth had to admit Sweets hadn't been a bad houseguest._Great coffee_ It was easy for Booth to forget about the darkside of Sweets past. _"darkside" Sweets would appreciate the Star Wars reference__. _He had an easy going friendly nature, always helping others and didn't let the criminal wackos they brought down get to him_. Well there was that van ride from hell with "the gravedigger" but he was over that in a day, with a lil push from Caroline. No, that bastard Pelant got to him. Had the profiler doubting his work, his place on the team. _Enough doubt and guilt over the useless deaths of their fellow agents to actually move the psycologist to leave the Bureau. During that three month time span Sweets had not kept in touch with him...or the anyone else. Booth was still a bit sore over that. But the kid eventually made it back to where he belonged. Even if Booth did have to drag his reluctant ass back himself. Now this. The Agent hoped this case wouldn't drive him away again. Booth was determined it would not.

They rode this route nearly everyday, but this trip from the Jeffersoinan to the Hoover was agonizingly long. The young doctor wasn't in the mood to talk. He had called his secretary, cancelled the days few remaining obligations. In the solitude of his office he would compose a statement about his brief time with one Jason Andrews. Keep it simple, just the facts as he remembered them. Get Booth off his back. Sweets wasn't really mad at Booth, this intrusion into his personal life, that was Pelants fault. This crazy case, the killers fault. He was annoyed that Booth didn't seem to believe him when he said he couldn't remember everything that had happened to him. Maybe he didn't want to reminisce about it. Booth certainly never went into any detail about his Dad. Just vague implications that he was a mean drunk who knocked him around. Oh and that vague admission about how he wouldn't be here if not for Pops. But not once had he ever offered any meaningful detail. He got it, he really did. It had taken years of therapy as a child before he finally addressed his own fears, pain and guilt. It worked...mostly. Dr. Correz had always insisted there was more to explore, "..repressed emotions and memories that would someday bubble to the surface..". That was one of their last sessions together. Just before he had left to study abroad, on the promise he would continue "maintainence", of course. He had tried, visiting the occasional mental health professional, but seriously? The psych major already knew what they would say, he knew all the terms, studied the conditions and theories. Why bother? He had decided to focus on the future not the past. And it worked. Here he was, a profiler in the FBI, part of a team of professionals that were argueably the best in their respective fields, solving cases and catching killer after killer. He was a part of that. No family yet..sure..maybe his personal life had suffered a bit, but there would be time for that later. His ill timed proposal to Daisy and the inevitable breakup had proven he just wasn't ready yet._ Maybe someday._ Although he had to admit, sometimes it was all he wanted. A family of his own, a loving wife and cute kid(s) ..he was good with children..Brennen and Angela both agreed he had a knack. A knack Booth claimed was only because he was still a child. Ha ha. So his way of dealing with his past worked for him. How else could have acheived all he had in life and even contemplate a future raising happy well adjusted kids of his own if he had not successfully dealt with his past._ He could do this. Just lay down the facts in a summary for Booth then your done, you can go back to business as usual, to work_. With a plan of action decided, Sweets was relieved somewhat. Ah, finally here! He barely allowed time for Booth to put the SUV in park before hopping out.

Booth didn't attempt to stop the shrinks quick escape. He felt relief the ride was over as well. Agent Shaw met him at his office. She had files on people of interest he should speak to at the ex-prison home of Andrews. His lastest and longest cellmate, a prison therapist, and some young man that the Warden had noticed keeping close company to the veteran inmate. She had also set up the interviews, the Warden would be expecting Agent Booth and Dr. Brennen. He thanked Shaw for her efforts. Her attention to detail and efficiency made her such a great Agent. Booth truly appreciated having her on his team.

- former prison of Jason Andrews-

Bones and Booth were impatiently awaiting their first interviewee. The spartan room was painted in that pale institutional mint green hue, meant to have a calming effect, but just seemed garish in the harsh fluorescent overhead lighting. Just big enough to accomadate a small table and a few chairs, the cramped room felt oppressive and cold. Booth shifted ,once again, in the hard metal and plastic chair, they had been waiting fifteen minutes and his back was starting to protest. At that moment the door opened and a tall, heavyset man, who looked to be in his fifties, was escorted to a seat at the table. Booth nodded to the guard and he left.

"Levi Carter, serving a thirty year stint for armed robbery...the cashier was nearly beaten to death. You've been here for eighteen years. You were cellmates with Jason Andrews for the last ten years. You must know the guy pretty well, right?" Booth waited for a reaction. Carter shrugged his broad shoulders, leaned forward, rested his heavily tattooed forearms on the table in a crossed fashion, and stared at Agent Booth suspiciously.

"Guess I knew him 'bout as good anybody gets to know someone in this place. Why? After git'n his brains scrambled, I doubt he's been up to much lately." Carter didn't seem terribly upset at his cellmates bad luck, Booth noted.

"We are aware of Mr. Andrews condition, that's why we would like to ask you a few questions. You shared a cell, you must've talked about things..the past, future plans...acquaintances." Booth maintained a relaxed non-threatening posture and tone.

"We have reason to believe Andrews may have been communicating with someone, either here or outside the prison. Sharing experiences of his past crimes. Do you know who he may have been talking to? Did he ever mention his plans for when he got out?"

Carter thought for few minutes, then began laughing a low guttural chuckle that ended as soon as it had started, "Look here agent man, me and him may have lived in that cell for the last decade but that don't make us buddies. He had his space, I have mine. He always acted like he was better'n me. Always had his nose in a book. Spent most his time working in the library or takin' them skills classes they offer to help us become "productive members of society" if and when we get outta here. He didn't talk much. Not to me...but I ain't that big on chattin' either, suited me fine.", he sat back in the chair and folded his arms over his chest.

" I find it hard to believe that two people forced to co-exist in such a confined area, could do so without sharing in a fair amount of social intercourse, Booth." Carters shocked expression turned on Bones as if it was the first time he had noticed she was there.

"Social what? Wha..kinda course? Hey nah, wuttin nothin like that going on between me an him.. Hell nah! You wanna know about that shit you talk to that kid, Billy Boy, Jason was always hanging with the him...ya know."

"Booth, what is he talking about...", Bones confusion turning to bemusment as she understood the inmates excited reaction to her innocuous observation. " You misunderstood, it means conversation." Carters face flushed a bit, embarressed by the mistake and the outburst. He just sat there, quietly, staring down at the tabletop.

" We are going to speak to William Boyd after you finish telling me about Jason Andrews plans.", Booth agreed with his partner. There was no way the cellmates didn't talk. "Did he ever talk about anyone on the outside he was close to?"

"I don't know, there was his lawyer..but,he fired him years ago. His ex came.. once. He would talk 'bout his kid all the time, though. How he needed to fix things with'im. Andrews was always bragging on his boy. All the shit he said though... I think he was jus makin' up a bunch of it." Carter snorted dismissively. Bones and Booth exchanged knowing looks.

"What led you to believe he was lying?", Bones asked out of curiosity.

"Let's see well how many kids you know read...not Hop On Pop..but like World Book Encyclopedia readin' at four or play and win at chess by five? Said he graduated high school at fourteen...now he's some kinda doctor. Had a scrapbook at one time, don't know what happened to it. Probably..snatched by the guards. If his kid was all that, he never bothered to visit with his old man."

" That's because that "kid" ,was the victim of the crimes that put Andrews here! Andrews was not his father, just an abusive foster parent." Bones corrected defensively.

"Really? Well that might be but, as far as Jason was concerned the kid was his." Carter shrugged, "He was sure he'd get parole next time around..said it was a sure thing...said he was gonna have a family reunion...but then he got the shit beat out of 'im so I don't reckon none of that matters now. As for outsiders and him go...there was one guy..he only talked about him once or twice...um...Chris...yeah that was it. He was one of them teachers for the computer classes they had once."

"Chris? As in Christopher? What did he look like?", Booth asked anxiously.

"Man, I don't know..I said he mentioned a name..I ain't takin' no classes."

"Fine, what did he say about Chris the computer instructor?", Booth said exasperated.

"Just that Chris was a gonna help him get parole...so he could... see his boy." Carter confessed.

"And how was Chris going to do that? Did he mention that any? Booth glowered at the inmate. Carter shook his head to the negative.

"That's all I know. Talk to Billy Boy, he'd know more ..they were real close."

After Carter left, the couple had a few moments to discuss what they had learned.

"Booth. Do you really believe Christopher Pelant would have actually walked into a prison just to teach a computer class to a bunch of inmates? Prehaps this Chris is just some other disturbed individual that was influenced by Andrews? Chris, Christopher, Christian are very common names." ,Brennen continued playing devils advocate,"Besides even if it had been Pelant, his plan to help with parole for Andrews fell through when Andrews was injured. So who else does that leave?"

"I don't know Bones. With Pelant anything was possible, but I suppose it could be another Chris. I'll have Agent Shaw look into the instructors. But let's see what this guy has to say." Booth pointed at the door opening to admit inmate William Boyd aka. Billy Boy. Booth and Brennens eyes met in silent agreement, the resemblence was troublingly undeniable. Not quite as tall and lankier build. But still, William Boyd could pass as Sweets younger brother. Twenty years old, this was his first time in real prison.

"William Boyd. Do you go by William or Billy Boy?",Booth asked the young man as he took the seat across from him.

"It's Will...guys just call me Billy Boy...to get under my skin." He drawled quietly never looking up from the shiney surface of the table. "Am I in some kinda trouble?" Finally looking at them.

"No. Your not. I'm Special Agent Booth and this is my partner Brennen. We just thought you might have some information that could help us with a case. How close were you to Jason Andrews? Everyone here says you knew him pretty well." Booth watched the young mans eyes drop back down to the table then to the hands balled into fists on his lap. Not answering, Will raised his right fist to his mouth and began gnawing nervously on his thumbnail. He paused chewing long enough to speak.

"He was a friend. I guess." He resumed his assault on the nail.

"Just a friend? According to the Warden and other inmates, you and Andrews spent most of your free time together. According to them, Andrews looked out for you, kept the other inmates from bothering you. Now why do you suppose that is?", Booth queried.

"I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders, then chewed away some more at his thumb, much to Brennens displeasure. Made aware of the nervous habit by Brennens look of disapproval, Will stopped gnawing and put his hand back in his lap, like an embarassed child. "Sorry."

"Look Will, we just want to know if Andrews mentioned anyone he had communication with outside the prison. Was he telling people about the crimes he commited...in detail?", Booth locked eyes with his partner. Looking unsure this kid would yield anything worthwhile.

"Everybody, doesn't know what they're talking about you know. Jason... he..he was my friend...but not...not like that. Mostly we just hung together, he told me who to avoid, how things worked in here. I've never been in prison, just a short stint in juvi, that's it. You have no idea how hard its been..." the young mans voice trailed off as though lost in thought.

"Yeah and I'm sure the cashier you and your accomplices left for dead beaten and raped at the back of the Seven Eleven would hate to know its been hard for you huh?", Booth shot coldly. Despite the innocent youthful appearance of William Boyd, he was convicted of terribly violent crimes. Will met Booths hard gaze for only a second, the whites surrounding dark brown irises were bloodshot, he looked tired and worn.

"I didn't mean for any of that to happen. I didn't even know they were robbing the place! Then Bud had a gun and she was screaming. I just thought we were gonna take the cash, some smokes...but then...I didn't rape that lady! I swear! ... oh nevermind you don't get it... I didn't have a choice. Jason understood. He said he would help me get outta here. He is..was..a real smart guy. Studied the law, said I had cause for a retrial because I had an... incompetant lawyer. Gave all sorts of legal reasons. He wanted to help me."

"Really? Why? Out of the kindness of his convict heart?", Booth teased.

"You didn't know the guy. He was real good person. No one in here messed with him. He had helped a lot of the guys. Pushed for more programs to help us when we get out. Education and skills...legal services. A lot of guys in here looked up to him. He had a ton of patience... He was teaching me how to play Chess last time we hungout before...well you know. He was like..." his voice weakening until it was a little more than a mumble "like a dad.", he spat out bitterly.

"Okay, so he was a "great guy", did he ever mention keeping in touch with any of those guys." The Agent asked.

" No. No one. The only person he talked about, to me, outside these walls was his son." Will made no attempt to hide his contempt. "He would go on and on about how smart his boy was. Chess champ, double phd's, and works with the FBI...hey maybe you know him. Hehehe."

"Did he ever mention a Chris? Booth asked ignoring the jest.

"Nope. Just Lance." Booth and Brennen exchanged shocked looks at hearing Sweets name tossed out so casually by the criminal in front of them.

Booth noted the jealous tone, maybe he could use this.

"Oh well then that explains it!" Booth said as if he had come to some obvious realization. Bones caught on.

"Exactly, Andrews interest in Mr. Boyd could only have been as a poor substitute for his actual son. I would imagine as soon as he was paroled he would have forgotten all about ..Will was it?", Bones gave Will a dismissive look, as if it was just so obvious. Will straightened up, troubled eyes bouncing between the couple, he started shaking his head.

" No. No. It wasn't like that...he thought it was all wrong me being in here, he understood it was all a mistake, I didn't do what they said I did...I'm no rapist or killer ..he said he saw that right off the bat. Told me all the time how I wasn't like the rest of the..filth in here. I'm special. Jason said "I had potential" to better myself, promised to help me." Boyd argued emphatically.

Booth leaned across the table, giving the guy an amused grin, "Wow, and you really bought that huh? He ever tell you what he planned to do when he got out of here...other than helping you of course...yeah right. Where he would go? Who would he would see?"

" He promised he'd get me a good lawyer, not like that state appointed asshole I had. He wouldn't have lied about that.",Boyd growled thru gritted teeth.

"Andrews has been incarcerated for twenty-two years. What made him so sure he would get parole this time? What changed? He must have had some reason to believe he was getting out. Someone helping him...and you know Will, who and how ,and you need to tell us." Booth pushed for answers.

"Jason Andrews condition is unlikely to improve, Will, any promises he made will go unfulfilled. It would be most beneficial to you to help us." Bones coaxed." How exactly did Andrews know those details about his.. son, unless he had an outside source. He fired his attorney shortly after coming here, he has no family, so who?"

"I don't know...we..we didn't talk about that sorta thing. What do ya mean no family? He had a kid right? He had me hold on to a scrapbook he had about him. He was worried Carter would mess it up cuz he had pissed him off somehow. All kinds of clippings and photos, in that thing.", Boyds cheeks flushed slightly, "When Jason got sent off I looked through it...that's how I know about all that stuff about his son. He didn't talk about him with me, just mentioned that I reminded him of his boy." William Boyd hung his head," He said..I was special...he was my friend...that he had my back...that I could trust him, you know?...But then..", Will began biteing savagely at his thumbnail again, and rubbing the back of his neck, "but then...damn this is hard... then I got jumped...in the laundry room. I..I..didn't see who it was...I didnt report it, Jason said he would handle it, find out who it was kick their ass. That's why he got beat down...asking too many questions making accusations. I figure it was my fault he is messed up now. ..I wasn't tough enough...",Will swiped at his face, trying not to allow the wetness swamping his eyes to roll down his cheeks. Booth was uncomfortable at the sudden emotional turn his interrogation had taken but allowed the kid to continue.

"But then, after they had shipped Jason to the medical facility, I took a look at that stupid book of his...he said I reminded of his son... I guess we favor.. some... but the more I read it...your right, no way I could do half the shit that guys done in a whole lifetime. I knew it then...Jason didn't want to be my friend not really..he just wanted to...um ...ahhhgh...Screw him! Listen,I don't know anything about a Chris, but Andrews did mention something about a place he would go as soon as he was free. Coras old homeplace. Said he kept some of his favorite things there. Find that place maybe there's someone there who can help you. That's all I know.", William Boyd slumped into the chair, looking tired but somewhat relieved to have finally opened up about Andrews.

"Thank you, Will. We will look into that. Hey, you still have that scrapbook? Booth wondered hopefully. Didn't want something like that getting passed around a prison. Will looked suprised by the question, he took a moment to answer.

"Yeah...about that... I have it .Well most of it.", he shrugged sheepishly.

"Most of it?" Booth growled.

"Yeah..well in here a kids picture, to the right kind is like...currency",Wills cheeks glowed pink at his admission.

"And you have to know how sick that is, right? Fine, I'll be taking whats left then. Goodbye .", Booth and Bones stood to leave the room. Before they got through the door, Boyds voice rung out.

"Someone should tell Lance to watch his back!" Booth whirled around so fast he almost knocked Bones ,who was close behind him, into the doorjam.

"What's that supposed to mean! " Booth shouted into the guys face.

"Nothing... I swear...just if Jason shared that book with anyone... its got alot of information about the guy. That's it okay!" Will pleaded, as the Agent grabbed the young mans shoulder.

"That better be all it is. If you know something, anything else you better say it now! If something happens to Sweets I'm coming straight back here.." Booth hissed in Boyds ear ." You don't want that to happen." Booth stepped back towards the doors. Boyd was shaken up by Booths threats, but had a thoughtful look, "So you do know him?", Booth disgusted didn't answer. Storming out of the room. He had slipped up there. Damn. They had the Warden search Boyds cell to retrieve the remanants of Andrews book.

They made their way to the office of the prison's therapist. In contrast to the harshness of the small interrogation room Digbys office had a soothing apricotish glow. The furniture was equally comfortable. A large grey sofa along one wall and an off white upholstered chair at the end. They recognised it as the classic set up of therapists the world over. In one corner was a basket of "toys", Booth thought how Sweets would insist they were therapeutic aids. There was a small utilitarian desk built into the wall upon which sat an open laptop with a young woman tapping away intently. Noticing their arrival, the petitte brunette closed the device. Swiveling the desk chair around she met the couple with a welcoming smile.

"Agent Booth pleased to meet you." She got up, extending her hand,"And..Dr.? " the smile was now tinged with confusion and embarassment.

" Brennen, forensic anthropolgist for the Jeffersonion Institute. I'm also Agent Booths partner and spouse." Bones finished her self introduction. Obviously annoyed, by the oversight.

"Of course you are! Please sit down, I meant no offense. When the Wardens secretary told me Agent Booth and some doctor were coming I assumed she meant Dr. Sweets.", her face flushed again, " Especially if it has something to do with the mental health of an inmate."

Booth noted with amusement the way the woman had blushed mentioning Sweets name.

" So you know our profiler,well?" Booth smiled.

"Oh no..well.. not really, was a guest lecturer a couple of months back at Columbia, I had the pleasure to attend. He was very interesting...his ideas were interesting that is." Once she settled into the white chair she slipped into therapist mode. Relaxed open, but alert, posture, with an amiable but unreadable expression.

" Now how can I help you? I understand you spoke with William Boyd and and Levi Carter in regard to Jason Andrews. May I ask why?"

"We are investigating the death of a young boy. Details of the case lead us to believe there may have be some connection to Andrews past crimes. We were interested with anyone he had contact with."

"I see...and did you learn anything useful?", the therapist asked.

" We have gained some insights into who Andrews was, a few leads to look into..", Booth said,"The way Boyd spoke of him he could be a "real swell guy ".

"Yes...of course Mr. Boyds relationship with Andrews was...unfortunate. I did not have very many opportunities to speak to Mr. Andrews, I only took this position about a year ago. He had been evaluated as part of the parole process by my predecessor and former boss Dr. Jackson. He gave him a favorable evaluation, which I found difficult to agree with. From what I observed, Jason Andrews was a sadistic sociopath. He was very intelligent, could be charming and caring in order to achieve his goals. He was also a master at manipulation and derived pleasure from controlling and harming others. I would not have recommended parole. Of course the evaluation became a moot point after his injuries. Young William Boyd was an easy mark for Andrews. Young, naive and chock full of "daddy issues". Andrews took advantage of that. I have no knowledge of anyone Andrews was in contact with. I'm sorry I don't have any useful information about Andrews...I would give you his last psych eval if I could find the record. We had a system failure that wiped out all kinds of files. Unfortunately lost many of his personal records when he packed up his office. I do hope you catch this person. What am saying? Of course you will...you work with one of the most brilliant minds in the field." Booth noted with amusement his partners lovely features lit up at the praise, totally oblivious that it wasn't in reference to her.

" When was this system failure?" Booth asked.

"About a eight months ago? Why is it important?" asked.

" Maybe. Thank you ...I'll let know how much you enjoyed him..his lecture." Booth smiled as he and Bones left the blushing therapists cozy office. The kid shrink had an admirer. Booth made a mental note that the next visit to that prison Sweets should ride along.

"Booth. Do you believe anything useful was gleaned from those interviews?" Bones head ached. She was tired and aggravated. Pelant ,though dead, had some role in all this, Andrews ,who posessed the answers they required, was medically incapacitated, and there was no physical evidence to lead them to the actual killer. And then there was , her friend and colleague, forced to dredge up a painful past because a child killer was made privy to details of his childhood traumas. She knew how emotionally difficult it was for her to open up about her own negative childhood experiences. She had suffered harsh unfair treatment on more than one occassion. Being locked in the trunk of a car had been the worst of it. She had been old enough at fourteen to report her mistreatment, to make them listen. She also had family in the form of an older brother. Russ was away working but he made sure she was removed from that home, before it had gotten any worse. Sweets had suffered so much abuse. No one had looked out for him. No family. It was fortunate he had survived at all. Thankfully he was adopted by a couple who helped him become who he is today. They must have been quite remarkable people. Booths voice broke into her thoughts.

" We know how obsessed Andrews was with Sweets, we have that scrapbook that he may have shared with the class, there's the place he kept his "favorite things" Coras?, oh and lest we forget Chris the computer guy who I'm sure was Pelant." , Booth punctuated the end of his list by honking his horn as he whipped the suv around a minivan. It was getting late he wanted to get home and attempt to relax. Tommorow promised to be another long day of chasing ghosts. Glancing down at Andrews scrapbook he wondered at how messed up the man must have been. To keep up with someone he had known so briefly and had no relation to for twentysome years...crazy.

"I'll have Shaw look into this "Cora", maybe there is something there.", Booth looked at his passenger when he didn't get a response. Bones was looking through the scrapbook.

"Bones? Are you okay? Its a bunch of creepy stuff isn't it? Bones!"

" Sorry Booth..um no actually..it seems perfectly normal. I mean there are obviously photos missing but the remaining captions are nothing I would consider creepy." Bones stated,"For example here, " A day at the zoo. Lance loved the big water buffalo and the tigers. We had a great day!". " Christmas 1989! Our first Christmas together as a family."..There are newspaper clippings of him receiving an award for chess, " That's my boy!". Booth, most of this reads like a proud parent not some evil monster." She finished perusing the book.

"It is as if Jason Andrews believed Sweets really was his son...but if so why did he beat him? I will never understand it. Booth, I could never harm Christine."

"Believe me, Bones, I don't undertsand it either. My own father...he was a great guy...when he wasn't drinking. But he had issues, so he drank...alot, and when he was drunk it was like he was a whole different person and we were just...just in his way. I would guess Andrews had issues too." ,Booth tightened his grip on the steering wheel staring down the dark road ahead," But that doesn't excuse them from their actions. They were both wrong." The agent went quiet. He could feel his wifes commiserative gaze washing over him.

Bones remained quiet letting the gentle hum of the suv fill the silence. Booth had just opened up about his father. Such a rare moment deserved respect.


	2. Chapter 2 Down Memory Lane

**Ok so next Chapter, sorry if it sucks. Read&Review Thanks to the few who have. **

**I do not own Bones, sadly. Or any of its characters.**

had managed to make his way through the Hoover hallways without anyone stopping him to chat about a profile or seek a bit of off the cuff advice from their resident shrink. Back in Agent Booths big black SUV he had convinced himself he could handle the task at hand and get back to his day...right just compose a simple summary. As he rounded the corner and saw his office door, his resolve began to falter. Once he was in that room he would have to do something he had not done consciously for years. Reaching for the doorknob, he paused for just a moment as if to steel himself against some attack then opened the door. Once inside he walked over to his desk. As he sat down he noticed a stray red rubber band lying haphazardly near the base of the small desk lamp. Snatching up the rogue office supply he opened his desk drawer retrieved an impressive rubberband ball and returned the offending band back where it belonged. He took comfort in the neat orderly appearance of his workspace. _Come on stop stalling, time to do this. Just a simple summary... yeah ..real simple just sit here let your mind drift back... back..after nearly TWENTY YEARS OF TRYING NOT TO REMEMBER THAT TIME...SIMPLE! __Aggravated with himself and the task itself Sweets flopped down on his couch. He grabbed a throw pillow and hugged it to his chest, he closed his eyes as he let his chin rest on the pillow. He thought back to his parents, he wished he could stay in those memories, but pushed back further. ____Just focus on a single moment, let it take you into itself. He was there inside that dark cramped closet... again. He could remember crying out for Daddy. Daddy please, I want out! Crying until he was hoarse and passing out from exhaustion... __Lance felt his heart begin to race...inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly he calmed himself. Other memories came then went...all of them...were the stuff his nightmares had always been made of... but popping up inbetween the were random moments...impossible flashes of things he didn't want to accept. Those were the memories that made his stomach twist into knots. The emotions that were attached to them were even worse...automatically he began pushing them away...such things never happened. As he pulled himself back into the present Sweets found himself clutching the pillow so tightly his knuckles had gone white and pain shot through his hands as he attempted to release his grip. Tossing the pillow across the room the psychologist slid into his desk chair, opened his laptop and began typing, furiously punching at the keys. He gave brief bare bones descriptions of the abuses he remembered and he knew were similar to Brian Forrester. It was not his best work...hardly worth the effort. Sweets was done. Agent Booth and Dr. Brennen could solve this case with or without his simple little version of events or not, but he was not going, willingly back into that dark place inside himself. He shoved the single sheet of paper into a crisp clean manilla folder then placed it in the top drawer of his desk, he prefered to hand it Booth himself instead of risking its misplacement by simply leaving on Agent Booth often cluttered desk. Lance was glad that the task was done. Now he could go back to his regular duties...____back into the therapist chair and off of the couch.__ Glancing outside he noticed how dark it was, suddenly it occurred to him his trip through time must have been longer then he thought. Checking the time on the old wristwatch his father had given him Lance was suprised, 6:30 already? ____Apparently time flew when you weren't having fun too.__He thought about dinner, he should probably eat...he could order takeout, but as the images of food popped into his mind, a wave of nausea crashed over him. ____Nah..food could wait. __So instead Lance opened up his email to see what work was waiting for his attention. Reaching into a side drawer he pulled out a pair of highend wireless headphones, with a few taps of the touchscreen he soon was lost in speed of light pounding of drums, manic guitar rifts and the shrieks and screams of ____Deaths __leadman. Totally immersed, he began replying to the numerous emails that had built up through the day._

_It was late when Agent Booth and Dr. Brennen stepped off the elevator in the quiet bullpen area of the Hoover. But Booth had insisted that he needed to stop by his office to pick up a file Agent Shaw had compiled of recently released convicts that fit the child killers profile. As they made their way around the room Booth noticed the light still on in the psychologists office. _

_After grabbing the files from his office Booth and Bones entered Sweets office. They found the man at his desk, his thrashing head partially obscured by the laptops screen. The fingertips of his left hand striking the desktop at a manic pace building in speed and intensity until crescendoing into pounding the hard surface before transitioning back to fingertips. All the while his eyes maintained there lock on the computer screen as he typed away with his right hand. So lost in that world he didn't even see Booth and Bones barge unannounced ,once again, into his workspace. Which explained why he nearly jumped out of his chair, when a grinning Agent Booth tossed one of the small "theraputic aids" ,aka a bright yellow smiley face stress ball at the therapist. It bounced it off his head, coming to a rest on the keyboard. _

_"Dammit Booth! Are trying to give me a freaking heart attack! ",Sweets shouted at Booth while reclaiming his position in his chair. His face flushed with anger and embarassment. As he calmed his breathing to less panicked levels, Sweets glared at the yellow smiley face mocking him from the keyboard, snatching it up he tossed it back at Booth only to watch as he deftly caught it. "Would it kill you to ever knock?!", even as the words left his mouth he knew the truth in Booths inevitable comeback._

_"Knock? You really believe knocking was going make a difference? When your in here headbanging to ...what? ", Booth picked the headphones up from where they had landed on the desk after being tossed off. Placing them over his ears he winced as the jagged rifts of death metal assualted him. "Death metal? Really? Huh.. no wonder you jumped out of your skin.", Booth teased, but he remembered that day at the diner the denial then admission, ____"..sometimes when its been a hard day at work, I might listen to a few bootleg cds ..." today definately qualified. _

___"__Are you alright, Sweets? ", Brennens worry filled eyes hinted she too remembered that paticular conversation, "I attempted to dissuade Booth but he could not help himself." She shot Booth with a scolding "I told you so" glare. "Given todays events it was quite childish behavior." _

_"It's okay , I am fine...I was just really startled... that's all. And Booth I'm sorry for yelling at you...I ..I know you were just joking around. Just next time, could you flick the lights off and on or something? ", Sweets said as he forced a smile across his still rosey face. _

_Booth felt about two feet tall, what was just fun for him probably wasn't so much for the guy behind the desk, " Look, no problem ...it was my bad. Alright. Uh.. yeah sorry Sweets."_

_The trio sat and stood in awkward silence, until Sweets opened the top drawer of the desk pulling out the folder. He stood, grabbing his jacket from the chair and folding it over the arm that held the folder, then stepped beside the agent. He treated Booth to an apprehensive glare before presenting him with the folder._

_"I feel this will suffice, now its late and I think I'll head home, Good night .", Lance noticed that Booth had yet to reach for the offered manilla folder. ____Dear God Booth wasn't wanting to read and review was he?" __ "Booth? This is why you dropped by right? For this?" The last word came out as a hiss. ____Come on Booth just take it. Then we can all go the hell home. __Sweets was relieved when the agent finally took the file. Booth never waivered eye contact with the younger man, who to his credit maintained his own apprehensive glare. _

_"No. I mean ...sure.. if you were done. But, no Sweets, that's not why we stopped by. It's late, your light was on...and after a day like today we just wondered how you might be doing.", Booths voice had taken on that tone he had whenever he scolded Parker or Christine. ____Or errant kid shrinks. __Booth looked at the file wearily, then back to Sweets. "Go home its been along day. Goodnight Sweets." _

_"Goodnight Booth. . Uh...thanks for looking out for me.", With that Sweets bid a hasty retreat from his own office. Leaving behind people who seemed to care for him. ____Even at times like these when he underestimated the level of concern they had for him. Way to go Lance!_

_After watching Sweets leave Bones edged closer to her partner. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder, "Booth? You seem upset. Is it because of my condemnation of your prank? Or Sweets yelling at you?" She spoke gently. Perplexed by his action of not simply taking the file and bidding Dr. Sweets goodnight. Booth turned to his wife giving her a wistful smile. _

_"I'm okay Bones...no, you were right about tossing the ball and he was well within his rights to yell at me. I don't know...it was just the way he decided the ONLY reason we came by was for that report...like... we don't care about how all this... crap could affect him. I guess it pisses me off.", Booth was holding up the folder looking at it, "And that look he had when he handed this to me and those words "feel" and "suffice". Bones, I can tell you now, there is nothing new to be learned in this. Whatever it is that he went through he isn't going to tell us. At first I thought maybe he just couldn't remember stuff...but ..it's all there. He's done with this case... for now. We will follow the leads we have." Bones wrapped her arms around his strong warm chest, resting her chin on his shoulder as she mummered softly, " You are such a good man, Booth. We can figure this out. Don't worry I am sure Sweets knows how much you care...we all care. It has been a long day for us both. Let's go home.", she nuzzeled in and kissed his neck as Booth returned her embrace and buried his face into her soft hair, losing himself in the feel of her. _

_"Your right. Let's go home Babe." _


	3. Chapter 3 Good Nights Rest

Ok so here is another bit of the story, hope its worth reading let me know. Reviews are nice..well one hopes they will be. Either way thanks for reading.

**I DON'T OWN BONES** or any the rest of the characters.

The scream of police sirens filled Camille Sayroyans mind, the sound jolting her out of some less than pleasant dreams. She fumbled blindly, hand searching the nightstand for her cellphone. _I really need to change that ringtone. Where the hell is my phone? __At that moment Aristoos strong arm was across her chest, in his hand was the shrieking device, which he held in front of her face. Cam took the phone, accepted the call, thus ending the auditory assault. Aristoo turned away trying to resume his slumber, it was only 4:30 AM and he usually didn't wake so early. Cam quietly slipped out of bed and went to the livingroom. A body had been discovered. ____Time to go to work. __Cam stealthily collected and donned her clothing. Kissing Aristoos cheek before leaving for the Jeffersonian._

_Booth got up earlier than usual due to a restless night. He had given up trying to sleep, choosing instead to steal away to his study where he decided to take a look at Andrews scrapbook for himself. Flipping on the desk lamp, Booth saw the manilla folder Sweets had given him laying exactly where he had tossed it after reading the short, less than informative page inside. Underneath the folder was the scrapbook. Booth took it then turned off the lamp. The floorlamp beside his Lazy-Boy flashed to life as Booth eased into its well worn leather seat. He took a look at the book in his hand. It was a simple handmade affair. About forty pages of assorted types of paper sandwiched between two heavy weight sheets of cardboard. The pages were bound together by dental floss maybe? Then bound to the cover with glue and twine? ____Crafty__ Booth opened the book to reveal the pages devoid of photos that Bones had read to him on the ride back from the prison. A couple more pictureless pages a few more inscriptions. "Chessmaster in the making!" Booth turned another page this one still had its two photos intact. The one picture was a Polaroid with a very unimpressed, unhappy boy sitting on the lap on one of those cheezy mall Easter Bunnys. Booth agreed with the kid, that costume was just creepy. Below that one was a better quality photo, this time the same boy, but much happier, was sitting on the lap of a smiling woman who sat criss-cross on the floor. There was an Easter basket full of candy in front of the pair. The grinning child had a box containing a large chocolate rabbit clutched in his hands. "Our First Easter". ____First Christmas, first Easter, first family picnic, a lot of firsts, the implication was that there would be more, Andrews saw a future full of moments like these. So what changed? Or was this just a happy facade Andrews wanted to believe in? __A few more pages, mostly clippings from various papers highlighting personal achevievment. Honors listings, graduation annoucements, scholarship recipients. In each one Lance Sweets name was highlighted. One even had a picture of what looked like a early teens Sweets holding some certificate, behind him beaming with pride was an older couple Booth could only assume were Sweets adoptive parents the Finnleys. More pages, more clippings but now they were about his time at the Bureau. APA Journal entries written by Sweets. One of the last pages had grainy printouts of candid photos taken from remote locations. Sweets getting into his little blue car, Sweets waiting to cross the city street looking at his phone,but the one that caught Booths attention was the one of jean jacket clad Sweets standing beside Booths own black Suburban outside the outreach center Sweets had volunteered. Standing in front of Sweets was Booth himself. ____How could this be in here, this was five months ago, Andrews has been in the medical facility for seven months. That lying son of a bitch...__At that moment a dark shilouette appeared in the doorway, backlit by the hallways light. As she stepped into the room the lamps soft glow revealed Bones, in her dark blue satin pajama bottoms and one of Booths own white tanks, moving toward him. She held her cell phone in one hand and was massaging her aching temple with the other. The uneasy nights sleep had done little for the headache that had began the night before._

_" Booth? I see you had troubles sleeping as well." Bones spied the journal on his lap. "Did you find anything helpful? she said attempting to stifle a yawn._

_"I think so, Bones.", he opened the book to the page with the picture of him and Sweets."Bones this, this picture.." Booth tapped the picture excitedly."...was taken just five months ago. How did Andrews put it in here? He was transfered two months prior." The FBI agent was wide awake now. This was a lead. He wasn't sure to who or what ,but...he knew where._

_"So back to the prison then?, Bones yawned again,as she sat on the corner of the small tired eyes ached. Booth watched his wife as she lifted both hands to rub at her temples again. That's when he noticed the cellphone still wedged in one hand._

_"Hey Bones..did you get a call?" He asked, as he left the recliner to go behind his desk. After a moments search in the top drawer, he withdrew a white container of ibuprophin. Booth removed a couple of caplets then offered them to his reluctant spouse. _

_"Dr. Sayroyan called_,_ a body was found in an condemned building set for demolition. She would like us to meet her at the scene as soon as possible." She stated flatly, then swallowed the pain meds._ Normally,_ she would have opted for a more natural remedy to ease her pain. However, now faced with what promised to be a very busy day ahead she accepted the effectivity modern pharmaceuticals could provide. Booth sat back down, this time at his desk, and flipped the switch on the desklamp. Sliding Sweets summary aside he found the information Agent Shaw had gathered on recent releasees who could fit the profile of their child killer. Its was a longer list than Booth hoped but maybe it would be useful when he made his return visit to the prison to have another chat with William Boyd. But that would have to wait until later, there was a body. ____Time to go to work._

_**Alone...alone in the dark..alone and locked up...again. Tearful begging for forgivness had grown into frantic screams for freedom from the cramped confines of the closet...but screaming hurt..breathing hurt...everything hurt...**__Sweets sat up chest heaving so hard it ached, he fought off the bedding that had wrapped tightly around him while he wrestled with the nightmare. A chill cut through him, the cool air kissing sweat soaked skin. He was awake...again. Disgusted, he flung the cool damp sheet aside, as he slid one leg then the next off the bed. He could see the indigo glow of the alarm clock through the spaces between of his fingers that were currently rubbing the last remnants of sleep...and tears ...from his eyes.4PM __Damn____! __Deciding a third try held no charm, Sweets pushed his tired frame onto its feet. ____Might as well get this day started._

_The heat of the water spilling atop his head, across the web of scars, then sliding down his back did wonders against the chill, but little to ease the continued feeling of helplessness the nightmare had churned up. So he turned dial further into the red transforming the showers spray into super heated needles of pain that pushed away all other thoughts except the immediate physical sensation. Steam formed clouds that rolled away from the glass stall like the thunderhead of an impending storm. ____I have control over this.__ He let the heat build and pain build until it was all there was..no other thought. Breathing in the hot moist air until the lightheaded feeling of hypotension signaled time to adjust to cooler temps lest risk passing out all together. Feeling centered and in control, he twisted the dial closer to the blue which brought cooler water and a return to the more mundane purpose of the shower. Lathering up, rinsing off, then shutting off the shower, he stepped out of the glass cubicle and through a steamy haze. Rubbing the large charcoal hued towel over his head before wrapping it around his hips, the young man stood before the vanity mirror. Swiping his hand across the fogged up mirror revealed a slightly distorted look at his reflection, he ran his fingers along his jawline. After using a handtowel to dry the glass completely, Sweets continued his morning routine. Eventually he emerged clean shaven with minty fresh breath, and unruly curls tamed into submission. He took his time picking the suit and tie combination, he had plenty of time. After a few minutes thought he chose the trim fit, dark grey pinstripe, with the jewel tone blue shirt and for a bit of color the crimson tie with similar blue stripes. It was one of his most expensive looks, great quality fabrics and tailored to fit. He had a scheduale full of patient sessions today...no fieldwork. ____No risk to the nice threads. __Dressed for the day ahead, he entered the kitchen, with all the extra time he could fix a pretty decent breakfast ____I did skip dinner last night.,__ but settled instead for a cup or two of his perfect coffee and a bagel. He flipped on the the tv letting the sounds of the local weather and traffic reports fill the silence that was part of his solitary lifestyle. He thought back to his decision to move out of the house he had shared with two lovely roomates. A decision made the same moment he had decided to take a leave off from the Bureau. ____It had been so perfect.____I miss those two, but my living there just put them at too much risk from Pelant or which ever killer wanted to take aim at me again for that matter. But it had been nice while it lasted. __Memories of everyday moments shared with friends..lost..kicked at him, causing him to abandon the last half of bagal to the plain, white ceramic plate untouched. ____Alone..always alone. __Before those thoughts could take hold, the reporters words drew his attention.("Blackouts due to overnight storms in outlying areas of the northern DC area were causing commuter delays..") ____Hmm, ____that's Angela and Hodgens neck of the woods, hope they're okay. __Checking his wrist for the time, he gathered his plate and mug then deposited them in the sink. ____Time to go to work._

_As the morning sun began to filter through the blinds of their bedroom window, a groggy, half awake Angela had that odd feeling that something just wasn't right. Sitting up she leaned over her husbands sleeping form then nudged him in the chest._

_"Jack, Hon wake up I think we are going to be late.", Angela pointing at the nightstand and the totally black alarm clock. _

_"Wha..? Oh man, wait..", Hodgens grabbed his cell phone only to find it had zero charge. Angelas device lay just as lifeless beside his. He sat up flustered. "... so much for the back up generator having our back...wait til I talk to that installer I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind, huh, peace of mind my ass!" He was still grumbling as he rushed around getting dressed. Angela threw herself together as fast as she could, then went to ready Michael._

_After a very rushed morning routine the Hodgens household flew out the door. Angelas minivan inched its way through the traffic at a snails pace. Until, in an attempt to make up some time, Hodgens left their usual route for side streets. It turned out to be a wise decision as they were able to make decent enough time to actually not be late after all. In fact, there excited rush had given them enough time to drop off Micheal Vincent at pre-school and contemplate breakfast at the diner. Angela also hoped to swing by Booths office, she had a gift she wanted give him. ____Maybe Booth, and Bren could join them, maybe Sweets too. __She thought of giving them a call but since they were already arriving at the Hoover building she would just let the phone continue charging. _

_Jack Hodgens was too busy railing about the malfunctioning generator to remember he had slid the switch on his cellphone to silent mode last night at theatre. They had gone to see some romantic chic flick Angie had been keen on and the film had left his wife in a very amourous mood. He didn't give the phone or its settings a second thought after that. He pulled into the visitor parking lot. He grabbed his and Angelas partially charged phones, while Angela grabbed a framed canvas from the back. Together they made their way into the FBI Headquarters. Confident they would make it in time to get to work._


	4. Chapter 4 Home Sweet Home

Here it is the next bit of drivel. Enjoy...

**I do not and most probably never will own BONES or any of the characters.**

Dr. Hodgens and Angela were heading towards Agent Booths office at the Hoover. Hodgens noticed the switch on the phone and immediately slid it back, as soon as he did Jacks phone buzzed to life. Several calls, texts and messages from requesting meet her at the scene of a newly discovered body. She was already enroute with their equipment. She had emailed the address. She informed him that Dr. Brennen and Agent Booth were on their way already. Ending the playback Jack noticed his wife had gone missing. Then he recalled her excusing herself to "find the little girls room" while he listened to the missed calls from Cam. Hodgens looked down the hall where the restrooms were located waiting for Angela to appear. They were dropping by the agents office to drop off a painting Angela had made especially for Booth. Maybe see if Booth, Bones and Sweets wanted to join them for breakfast at the Royal Diner. Cams call changed everything. Hodgens checked the time, he needed to get on the road.

"Good morning , don't often see you around here.", Dr. Sweets came striding down the hallway. The FBI shrink greeted Hodgens cheerfully. He had keys in his hand and his filecase tucked under his arm. "If you are looking for Booth he isn't here.", he said glancing beyond the entomolgist to the elevator.

"Yeah I know, uh.. hey could you do me a favor? If its not a problem...could you give Angela a ride to the Royal Diner? I need to meet Cam at a crime scene like asap and I need to take the car."

"Um... yeah. Sure, I've got to drop off these reports on the first floor. I'll go do that...just tell Angela I'll meet her at my car, its in my usual spot.", Sweets called over his shoulder, rushing to catch the elevator before the doors slid shut.

Hodgens watched the young man disappear behind stainless steel doors. A few moments later his lovely wife appeared at his side. Hodgens explained the situation to Angela. He gave his wife a kiss then headed for the stairwell. Being in a rush, he opted to take the stairs rather than the busy elevator and its many stops. Angela, who was not so rushed, waited for the elevator to return. After what seemed like an eternity, Angela and a herd of dark suited FBI personnel shuffled onto the car going down. _Don't I stand out in my pretty yellow frock. __Angela smiled to herself. _After stopping at each floor and holding on the second floor for a few minutes to allow an old man with a walker to finally get onboard, Angela finally arrived her destination. The basement floor parking garage where FBI employees parked. She had been here enough times to know which spots belonged to Booth and Sweets. As she walked down the long ramp that opened up into the main garage area she could just see Sweets light blue sedan behind a shiney black Suburban, _I thought Jack said Booth had already left? _

In a fairly good mood Angela called out playfully, "Hows about a lift handsom...oh " As the artist approached the vehicles she was suprised. Sweets was standing beside his car, but next to him was another man in black dress pants, shiney black shoes and a crisp white dress shirt and dark tie. He had his dark suit jacket folded over his arm. The man who, was obviously an agent, was slightly taller than the young psychologist. His salt and pepper hair was sheared in a neat military cut. The men stopped their conversation and stared in her direction.

Angelas playful greeting transformed into an embarrassed, "Oh..uh.. hi. ,can you still give me that lift? You seem ...busy." Angelas eyes shifted to the older man then back to Sweets.

"Oh yeah, about that ride..." The doctor turned his body slightly revealing the flattened out tire. "I really think,maybe, you should take a cab. I'm sorry Angela. I wasn't expecting this..." though he seemed completely casual there was an undertone of urgency.

"You say this kid promised you a lift?", The older man interrupted Sweets excitedly. " A cab? Now really Lance... that is no way to treat such a beautiful lady. What's the matter kid ...have you lost your manners since last time I saw you? ", the man gave Sweets a playful nudge with his elbow. "Well I guess I'll just introduce myself. Hello I'm Special Agent Tom Hawkins, up here from the Dallas office." ,The agent smiled warmly as he offered his free hand. Angela stepped in closer to accept the offered hand gently shaking it as she mirrored Agent Hawkins friendly, warm smile.

"Hi, names Angela Montenegro-Hodgens. Lance? Kid? So I take it you two know each other? Oh yeah probably from work...", Angela asked Sweets who had been quietly watching the introduction. He was about to speak when Agent Hawkins hand clamped on his shoulder. Quickly twisting his head, Sweets met the meaningful gaze of the mans hazel eyes, his own dark eyes fully comprehending.

"Oh no, Lance and I go way back...don't we?, Sweets nodded as he shifted his gaze to he concrete floor of the garage then back to his friend. " Um... yeah way back.". Agent Hawkins continued, " I was a longtime friend of his mothers. Been awhile but I try to keep in touch. I'm on a case that led me up here and Lance was kind enough to offer his asisstance...although looking at that flat I'd say it's lucky I was here. We can give you a lift to wherever you like, pretty lady." Agent Hawkins glanced at Sweets smiling smugly, "See Lance, that's how you treat a lady."

"Okay! That sounds great!. Maybe you can tell me what kind of kid Sweets was." Angela shot Sweets a mischeivious grin as she climbed into the passengerside front seat, which Agent Hawkins had automatically opened the door using a button on his key fob. She was amused by wide eyed look and bit of fear she thought she caught in Lances eyes _This guy must know some really good stories about a young Lance Sweets. _She was still smiling when the heavy door was shut, the extremely dark window tint obscuring her sight and any sight of her.

"No.. Why?..." Lance stepped towards the SUV ,but was stopped by the jacket covered arm of Agent Hawkins slamming into his lower back. The sudden impact of the hard steel barrel of the firearm hidden beneath the folds of black suit material crashing against his ribs hurt just enough to stop his speech and cause the man to inhale sharply. The fingers of the hand still grasping his shoulder dug into him like an eagles talons causing him to wince even more. Hawkins guided Lance toward the back of the large black vehicle. Hawkins pressed the young man against the side of the SUV. Leaning in close, all the while maintaining the gun and grip, he spoke calmly into Lances ear.

"Ah, ah, ah Lance no heroics, I could shoot you right here, right now, and still have a ton of fun with Angela there. But you don't want that right? So be a good boy, cooperate and maybe this really will be nothing more than a friendly car ride for that lovely woman, hmm?...Then again.." ,Hawkins released his grip on Lances shoulder. A few seconds later Sweets felt a sharp burning sting at the base of his neck, he heard the door open and felt himself forced to climb onto the grey vinyl of the backseat. It was all a dizzying blur. Closing his eyes, he felt the vehicle rumble to life, he wanted to scream out to Angela, warn her she was sitting beside a madman, but speech had gone the way of vision. Then, feeling like a ton of bricks weighed down upon him, Lance slumped against the door. As the darkness took over, he heard a voice...it was soft and sweet, a mothers voice...then hearing joined he rest of his senses and left him far behind.

"So your from Dallas? My dads from Texas.", Angela said." I can't place your accent."

"I'm from Maryland, originally, but the Bureau has moved me around so much over the years. I doubt I have one anymore. I'm actually leaving the Dallas office transferring here, closer to home. Retirements looking pretty good. In fact, if you don't mind a small detour, I've purchased a bit of a fixer-upper I was going to show it to Lance. Your an artist right, I remember Lance mentioning that once, so I would really value your opinion...What do you say? It won't take long. What do you think kid ?", Agent Hawkins glanced in the rearview mirror at the psychologists still form. "Lance?" The man gently tapped on the bulletproof plexiglass divider that separated the front from the back, had to be safe when he transported dangerous criminals.

"Aw, look at that sleeping like a baby."Angela cooed mockingly. " Though I'm not surprised the way this weeks gone, one ugly case after another lately. I imagine as agent your familiar with the toll it can take, too?" Angela stated thoughtfully as she watched the traffic. "Make a deal, I'll check out this house of yours but have to tell me about Sweets as a kid, I've known the guy for like six years and he never talks about his childhood...so come on, tell me something good." Angela glanced back once more. "Promise not to rat you out." Agent Hawkins shook his head laughing gently, before greeting her with a wide inviting smile that caused slight dimples to appear in his features. Angela noticed how familiar the gesture seemed but dismissed the feeling as soon as it came.

"Well now, Mrs. Montenegro-Hodgens you've gotta a deal. Anything specific or "dealers choice"?"

" Let's see, temper tantrums, my son Michael is becoming quite the master at it, but Sweets is so..I dont know ...calm all the time even when its obvious he's mad. I know it's silly but I have this mental image of a smaller version of Sweets gathering his toys around to talk through his feelings. Michael has a future pitching for the Washington Nationals he way he tosses a Mega Blok across the room. I bet Sweets was probably a quiet kid huh?" Angela wondered.

"Well, the truth is Lance could have a hell of a temper, from what Carol and David told me it was a real test of their patience. I have to give them credit though taking in a kid at their age, couldn't have been easy. Especially as messed up as he was. When I would visit the Finnley household I would always try to help out. David and I were repairing the back deck... replacing the old railing. Well Lance is running around wanting someone to pay him some attention...you know how a kid can be...Carol was busy making her special lasagna dinner, my favorite, we were all just busy...anyway, I guess Lance got mad because no one was playing with him. We needed some more nails so I offered to run to the hardware store...I come around the corner and there was Lance with a hammer bashing away at the side of my car. Hahaha. He saw me dropped the hammer and hauled ass into the house. Not sure exactly how David and Carol handled him. I just went on to the store...I mean what good would a lot of yelling at a seven year old have achieved. So I just let it go. So yeah, I guess he could throw one hell of a temper tantrum.", Hawkins eyes never left the road as he finished relating his tale. Angela sat quietly mulling over the story she had just heard trying to reconcile that image with with the Sweets she knew.

"Wow..I never knew...but it got better right?.. I mean it must have." Angela's earlier enthusiasim was replaced by a feeling of guilt for prying into Sweets past. The driver noticed her somber mood shift.

"Hey look I'm sorry if that story was abit of a downer. You mentioned a son. Michael? Sounds like a little spitfire. How old?" The mans warm smile and soothing voice had an immediate calming effect.

"He will be five soon. They grow up so fast. Do you have any kids?",Angela asked before noticing the lack of ring on the agents hand.

"As a matter of fact I do have a son, but his mother and I didn't get along, too much time away I suppose. Anyway, its been a long time since I got to see him. I hope, that after I get settled in here, we can have a reunion maybe. Kinda like the thoughts of hanging out with my kid after I retire.", Agent Hawkins pulled the vehicle up to a light. Turning to Angela his features took on a stern expression. "Now. You're sure you want to go with us to see this place, the Royal Diner is a just couple of blocks down? Last chance to change your mind."

"Oh.. uh yeah I'm fine. You keep talking about retirement. What are you like forty-five tops.", Angela remarked as she once again scrutinized the mans features. His mousy brown hair, while greying, had that pleasing salt and pepper effect. His face had only a few lines, laugh lines around the eyes and a couple of worry lines across his forehead. He had high cheekbones that added to his overall pleasant appearance.

Aware of the artist eye evaluating him Hawkins face flushed a bit, "Thanks, for the compliment, but I'm forty-eight pushing hard toward fifty." Once again he met Angela with that big smile that forced his dimples make an encore appearance. "Used to hate looking younger than my age, but I guess it becomes a blessing as the years go by."

"How did you know parents?", Angela had done the mental math and couldn't help but wonder why a young man in his twenties would be hanging out with Sweets much older parents.

"I was a student of Carols when she gave piano lessons. She was a close friend of my parents. As they got older I just wanted to help them out you know. Then they adopted Lance so I got to know him too." Agent Hawkins shrugged.

"Wow Sweets sure is taking a nap. You think we should wake him so he can enjoy reminiscing with us? ", Angela looked back at the young man still asleep in the backseat.

"Nah ... let him sleep. He will need the rest for the trip to West Virginia. I plan on letting him drive and give me a break." Angela shot the man a quizzical look.

"West Virginia? What are you taking Sweets there for? I mean I know its FBI business but what do you need Sweets for?

Agent Hawkins cleared his throat then began," I have been looking for a suspect who murdered his wife and child. I caught a lead that his mother may know where he is holed up. Anyway, by all accounts this woman is a bit mentally unstable. I'm here in Lances neck of the woods so I asked if he would assist in the interview. The woman lives deep in the George Washington Natl. Forest so it may take a day or two for the whole trip." As Hawkins fell silent and focused on the traffic. Angela looked out at the residential area they had driven into. The vehicle continued its journey, turning down one one-way street after another then home-lined street after another, Angela soon realised she had no clue where she was. When they slowly drove down yet another narrow street she checked for a street sign but found none. What she did see was an mostly empty street, that had more than one vacant lot and a few old homes. More than one had official looking notices stuck to the doors and boarded up windows. Another vacant lot then she noticed the SUV slowing to a stop.

The house that Agent Hawkins purchased was a large old Queen Anne style victorian, it stood alone from the other houses in that it was completely surrounded by a wrought iron fence. In its hey day it would have been magnifcent with its many gables, the prominent tower and intricate decorative woodwork. Angela stood on the sidewalk awaiting her companions in awe of the aging beauty. Agent Hawkins soon joined her in looking at the structure.

"Lance, said to go on in he will join us in a minute. Wants to straighten up. Wake up a bit." He walked to the gate, removed a heavy padlock, and ushered Angela through with a old fashioned gesture of his hand " After you M' dam.". After unlocking a series of locks the two went inside the foyer of the old home. There was a massive staircase winding its way up to the second floor. Every surface bore scars of neglect and age. But Angela could see all the beauty that lay just below the surface.

"Well what do you think? Tons of potential in this place...am I right? Got it for a steal what with the crappy real estate market and the neighborhood. Its just what I always wanted." He stated wistfully. Angela ambled into the front parlor. Despite the limited light making its way past the protective boards that shielded the stained glass window from hoodlums rocks, a shimmery rainbow of light danced its way along the canvas cloth that covered what furniture there was in the room. Angela turned to face Hawkins.

"This place is beautiful. It's going to take a lot of work and money ,but I think you have really found a gem of a fixer-upper." She smiled at the man genuinely happy for his luck. " You know, once you get it all finished and get settled in, I'll expect an invitatation to your house warming party." Angela turned to admire the detail work of the carved fireplace mantle.

"You see.. I knew you would appreciate this.. you remind me of Lances mother...she was such free spirit with an eye for beauty. She was beautiful, like you, too! Long dark curly hair... the most soulful brown eyes...they could peer right into your soul...If she had only given us a chance, we would have ended up having a life in beautiful house like this one...we would have raised Lance together." Hawkins quietly spoken words were measured and calm as he edged ever closer toward Angela whose posture had stiffened as the words sunk in.

"I...um..Oh God..you're him...aren't you?!" Forcing her body to ignore the paralyzing fear that had her planted to the spot, Angela attempted to make a break for the door, but ran directly into Agent Hawkins arms. She felt the sting of the needle jabbing her neck and immediately her world went first blurry, then completely black.


	5. Chapter 5 Home of the Mighty Mustangs

_Alas here is another sorry chapter in my vapid little tale. R&Rs are appreciated._

**_Bones and all its lovely characters have thus far eluded my grasp..I don't own Bones!_**

The suns rays had just begun to peek over the horizen as Booths SUV pulled into the parking lot of the red brick two story that ,according to the entrance sign, was once the "Home of the Mighty Mustangs". Bones had quickly spotted the Jeffersonians service vehicle amid the police and FBI vehicles and left Booth to go don her crime scene attire and gather her equipment. Agent Booth joined the local sheriff who had taken up residence betweeen the two large white columns of the main entrance of the decades old school building.

"Morning Agent Booth, not such a good one though." The Sheriff had a tired expression. "We got the call around three thirty am, some teenagers had broke in last night on some dumb dare to spend the night in the old place, maybe they think its haunted I don't know," he said shaking his head. "When they went exploring in the basement ... they found the body. The place is schedualed for demolition next month. Its been nothing but a nusance attracting bored horny teens, druggies, and vagrants of all sorts. We keep locking it up and they keep finding a way in. The body is a mess."

"I am ready Booth." Bones stated as she walked up to the two men. The trio entered the building. The power had been disconnected in preparations for destruction so they had to use flashlights and Bones headlamp to light their way through the maze of halls to the stairway that would lead then down to the basement that had housed the maintenace workers small office as well as a small locker room area where the janitoral staff could change and stow their belongings. There was also a small shower stall. A simple utilitarian affair with chipped and cracked white subway tile and cement floor. A portion of block wall along the basement was pushed inward allowing a large crack to form. Flooding from a broken watermain that entered the building on that side had caused the damage sending a deluge of mud and gravel coating much of the basement. That included the shower area where they found Dr. Sayroyan kneeling near the corpse.

"Watch your step, , the mud is still damp in spots." The pathologists warned as she reached over to adjust one of the light stands that had been brought in to illuminate the space. The hum of a small generator could be heard from the direction of the small rectanglar window above. A long heavyduty extention cord snaking its way to the lights from a break in the glass pane. Within in seconds the lights were positioned for maximum effectivness and the body became clearly visible. Back againt the tile wall, arms spread out forward from the body with hands palm side up and legs straight. The fleshy skull tilted back slack jawed, resulting in a gaping mouth shouting an eteranally silent scream. The flesh that remained on the skulls face was unnaturally colored in a mix of black and whites. What hair remained was a matted black mess. The clothing discolored by decomposition, included a black band tee, some black jeans and heavy black boots. A spiked collar circled the neck.

"Judging by the prominant brow ridge and rounded orbital margins this is a male. Lack in erruption of the third molars suggests between twelve to fifteen years of age, I will know more when I can examine the remains fully back at the lab. There seems to be quite a lot of flesh left...and some sort of pigment on the surface of the face.", Bones touched the skull tentively with her gloved index finger. Her brow furrowed as she thought about the makeups implications.

"How long do you think he's been down here?", Booth asked

"Based on level of decomp no more than three weeks." Cam offered as she lifted the left arm of the corpse, closely examining the remaining flesh. Booth noticed she seemed to be very interested in that part of the body.

"Any idea as to cause of death?" ,Booth prodded hopefully.

"I do not feel comfortable making that determination until I have fully asessed all the injuries, Booth." Bones replied tersely. She stood up apparently finished with her cursery field exam. "I will know more once the bones are properly cleaned and xrayed. have you found something?"

Cam looked up from her inspection of the limb, "I...I'm not quite sure. It appears that this young man has long lacerations up the length of his arms. I will need to look closer in the lab. But add that to the large amount of bloodspill thats present and we may have c.o.d." she was wondering if she should put voice to the nagging suspicion growing in her when a voice interrupted the moment.

"Hey, sorry I took so long to get here. There was a blackout and phone issues...hey what do we have here. Wow, "goth" kid huh?..Jack Hodgens hauled out his equipment and began collecting samples of everything. There was plenty of fauna and its calling cards for him to become quickly lost in work.

"So Cam you were saying..is this a suicide or murder?", the FBI Agent was anxious to get out of the dank musty basement and get back to his primary case. shrugged indesisively.

"I'll know for sure back at the lab." Cam didn't want to make any erroneous declarations.

"Okay then, you guys do your "squinty" thing, I'm gonna head out. There are some other things I need to do. Bones..you gonna catch a ride back with Cam?" Booth checked before heading up out of the makeshift tomb. His squinting eyes adjusted painfully as he stepped from the shadowy dead interior into the brilliant sun bathed morning that had spread over the defunct campus. He needed to hit the road to Maryland if he wanted to make the prison in good time.

Agent Booth sat on the comfy grey couch, anxiously awaiting the prison therapists arrival. She had insisted he meet with her prior to any further confrontation with William Boyd. He found himself tapping his fingers on the couch arm. Continually shaking his right foot, in its colorful striped sock and shiney black shoe, as it hung over his left knee. The same posture he had taken time and time again on Sweets couch. Suddenly the door opened, Digby swept across the room, scarcely acknowledging the agents presence. Reaching into the large brown leather bag she had just stripped from her shoulder, she produced a laptop and a couple of manilla folders. She flipped open the computer gave it a few taps then turned to face the confused agent sitting on her couch.

"Agent Booth I appreciate your patience. After we last spoke I decided to review my personal files as well as dig through what files we have left by my predecessor. I found something ...rather embarassing... but..well. It seems that there are at least two instances that someone may have used my laptop to access the internet. The reason I think you may be interested is well ...," she turned the laptop to reveal the candid pics of him and Sweets.

" It showed up in the folder of a security program that automatically records all activity. Just in case something gets deleted on the usual programs. Or there is some breach ,such as this. I keep it running hidden all the time. Agent Booth, this information wasn't requested it was simply received and opened. Like spam. I spoke to an IT friend who posisted that at some point I may have made a specific request and this rogue program targeted certain key words to send the files to my computer essentially fishing for a response. I did not open these files. But I did perform a search... Dr. Lance Sweets. It was just after his lecture..purely professional curiosty I assure you. There was another search made that I cannot make account for...it was a name, probably made by the same person...um...Dr. Cassandra Digby, my name." The young woman looked to Agent Booth with knitted brows her eyes reflecting concern and shame. "When I checked the date for the breach, I found it occurred the same date we had a bit of a situation. An unstable inmate had attacked a guard with a shiv... was threatening to kill him and himself. I was pulled out of a session to help calm him down. I was gone maybe fifteen minutes twenty tops...the guard was able to suprise the inmate while we spoke and it was over. The session patient was...William Boyd. There was a guard assigned to watch him... obviously that guards dismissal from this job was warranted.", the last line came out bitterly, she went silent, allowing Agent Booth the opportunity to absorb everything.

"So your saying William Boyd took the opportunity to search your laptop for personal info on you, but got this instead.", he pointed at the screen. "Then how did these images end up printed out and pasted into this journal?" Booth held up the book. She turned the chair back toward the desk. She slid aside a thin door on a compartment beneath the desk, Booth had not noticed due to its minimalized design, that revealed a shelf that held a compact printer.

"Agent Booth, what is in that book?...Who did you get it from?", her earlier fear was replaced with curiosity and renewed sense of purpose. "William Boyd? Of course it was. Please tell, me what this has to do with the investigation of the death of a young boy. Maybe I can help? William Boyd will have to explain himself...he isn't as innocent as he puts on. While I can not divulge any details from our sessions I'll just say, that in my opinion, has a very duplicitous nature. These events only confirm my suspicions."

"Look Dr. Digby, I really appreciate this... its very informative. But the nature of this case is so... sensitive, I really can not let you in on the details at this time ...now if I could speak to Boyd...alone. I will get to the bottom of this." He noted the disappointment in the therapist. But, he still needed to protect his own.

Once again Agent Booth sat in the hard plastic seat and once again William Boyd was led to the seat in front of him. Booth noticed the blue-black shiner that Boyd sported on his left eye. Secretly, Booth was delighted that life hadn't gotten easier for the kid. This time Boyd didn't stare at the table top, his hands rested, open and relaxed, across his lap. He met Booths gaze without hesitation, a smug look playing across his, way to familiar features.

"What's the matter Booth? Something happen? ...Tried to warn ya.."

"Stop the crap Billy Boy, I know you used the therapist laptop, printed out these pictures and you were the one who added them to the journal. What I want to know is why? Why do you care about any of this?", Booth paused and watched Boyd.

"I wonder, have you gone out to Coras yet? You really ought to." Boyd didn't wait for Agent Booths reply. "I bet you haven't ... real shame. Jason said he used to have tons of fun up there. A great family get away." He stopped talking and just sat there smiling at Booth. Booth wanted to slap that smile off the guy, beat the information he wanted out of him, but he couldn't do that...so he tried something else.

"I don't care about your daddy issues or the fact that your a grade A pervert or that you are such a loser that you had to cling to an aging child abuser just to keep from getting your ass kicked on a daily basis. Why did you put the photos in the book? Andrews isn't gonna make it back from the medical facility, so who were you saving them for? Why do you care? And do you know who sent them?" Booth was as calm as he could be. He wasn't going let some little punk get a reaction out if him. The agent never broke eye contact but saw the guys hands ball up into fists in his peripherial vision. A faint lift at the corner of his lips..that disappeared when he saw the hands relax again. Boyds smile never faded.

"Daddy issues? Is that what that bitch therapist said...my Dad and me got along just fine, til he died. As for the pics, I didn't go looking for them. I was looking for...something else...but all I got was a window popping up...I clicked and bam there you were..and Lance too. I didn't hit print, it just started on its own. Then the image was gone...I grabbed the pages. So what? I gave you the book, didn't I? I know Jason is not coming back." Boyd explained. "As for who sent it I don't know. Ask the Doc, it popped up on her computer. That's the first time I touched a computer since I was free. Not like I was handy with one then. About all I know how to do is Google."

Booth observed the ease with which Boyd ran through his explanation. No nail biting, no averted gaze and no emotional timber to his voice. _Except when he mentioned the therapist.__ He thought back to the last visit. ____Bones was there last time.__ Booth stood up and left the room telling the guard he wasn't finished and would be right back. A quick walk down the hall and he was at Dr. Digbys office again. Without knocking Booth walked in. She looked up surprised and mildly annoyed._

_"Did you ever hear of knocking? What if I were in a session?" _

_"Look I need to um, borrow you for a minute...won't take long ..you won't even have to speak" Booth promised as he ushered the woman into the hall._

_"Not speak. Seriously?..I take it hasn't spilled the beans for you hmm? And you are hoping to put him off guard with my presence? ", she had stopped at the interrogation rooms door. Agent Booth looked a bit deflated. _

_"So you already know about that huh?"_

_"Kinda get paid to notice that sorta thing. Fine I'll help you with Will...but I want to know what's going on. But first..." she reached into the pocket of her black dress pants, produced a hairband then twisted her golden brown locks into a tight bun. Turning around she stepped into a office a few doors down. She returned sporting a pair of dark framed reading glasses. _

_"What the hell.. you look like a librarian in those." Booth wondered what she was up to._

_"Agent Booth are you going to open the door for a lady or just stand there like a useless knot on a log.", the short brunette barked at the shocked agent, who quickly opened the door. As soon as she entered the room Booth saw the change. William Boyds wide eyes followed the doc as she approached the seat behind the table. But she didn't sit down right away, instead she glanced from the chair then back to Booth expectantly. The Agent reluctantly obliged her and pulled the chair out for her. A very terse "Thank you" was his only reward. Boyd had watched the exchange in short glances from the tabletop to the therapist._

_"Miss ..I mean Dr. Digby what are you doing in here? If its about the thing with the laptop...I'm sorry I just wanted to...um..connect.." William looked up in short bursts. Soon he was gnawing at the edge of his thumb._

_"Its been what about two months since our last session? You were upset about something or other... I hardly recall. But, have to say I am very disappointed to see how you broke the trust we had built in therapy by using my laptop, by breaking the ,tsk tsk. Very disappointing.", the woman eyed the inmate over the top of the dark tortoiseshell frames. Booth watched as the guy who was all Billy Badass half hour earlier with him, continued to curl in on himself while chewing away a portion of his thumb. _

_"Seriously Agent Booth, you can not truly believe William here could know anything useful? At most he is the victim here, Jason Andrews would never have confided in William ...not about anything important anyway." gave a slight roll of her eyes " please sit up, and stop that nasty nervous habit!" Even Booth jumped at the sudden chastisement. Boyd shifted upright, dropping his hand to his lap._

_"Agent Booth, do you have any more questions?" Asked werily removing the glasses, rubbing the back of her neck, then pulling the hairband away letting her soft brown hair fall across her shoulders at the gentle shake of her head. The woman kept her attention on the Booth as she ran a comb of fingers through the tousled locks. Booth watched Boyd who didn't blink or look at the tabletop once. He was breathing jaw clenched so hard the mucles were flexed. Booth had a question._

_"Hey, Billy Boy...when you were on that laptop you Googled the docs name, right? Why? You aren't up for parole anytime soon and unless there is some change in your case the prospects of you getting out early are slim. Especially since Andrews left you high and dry, no help there. But you Googled the Docs name and address. What were you gonna do send a card? Five months ago you were making plans ...you were expecting something to change. Five months ago you felt obligated to keep that journal safe and even add to it when the opportunity came..."_

_"Agent Booth! Leave the young boy alone, he was just a simple pawn..." William Boyd slammed his hands down on the table then leaned forward toward ,who barely jumped ,but did turn away from Agent Booth to focus on the enraged man across from her. _

_"Shut up! You bitch! You think I'm some dumb sap! You don't have a clue the all shit I know...what I'm capable of. You wait someday maybe I'll show ya. Oh yeah agent, you can bet her sweetass I had plans ...maybe I still do...", He leered at Cassandra. Booth stood up just in case the criminal thought about getting any closer. Cassandra didn't bat an eye, but met his cold hard glare with her own unyeilding gaze. Booth recognized the look, she was trying to analyze all the vemon he just spat in her face. When she tilted her head to speak it was in quiet even tones so low Booth had to strain to hear._

_"Will..I'm not your mother...neither was that store clerk..and no matter how many women you hurt..you will never erase that pain she caused you...you need to face it, work through it, then let go of it." ____Wow that's one dedicated psychotherapist. __"But if you cannot do that...and still have any "plans". Just know, I've faced alot worse than you. I'm not afraid of little boys with mommy/ daddy issues. And I shoot to kill."_

_"Yeah.. well, go to hell, I'm done here. Don't bother asking anymore questions..." Boyd looked away as he fell back into his seat,"... but Booth you really ought to check out Coras." Then he went silent refusing to even look up. _

_Boyd had been taken away. The Agent and therapist walked back to her office in silence. Booth wasn't sure if he had gotten what he came for. But he had come to a conclusion William Boyd was not going to be of anymore use to him. He would have a FBI tech come check out the computer system for any other "breaches". He still didn't have a clear lead on the killer and now another case too. He rubbed his temples as the pressure behind his eyes began to build. He was thinking about Boyds insistence that he check out Coras ____Next thing on the to do list. __when the Docs voice roused him into the present. Booth realised they were in her office, he didn't even remember coming through the door. _

_"Agent Booth, sit down...please. Doctors orders." She smiled at the tired man. Booth started to decline the offer to rest but something about the shrinks look told him not to argue. He sat down on the couch. Settling into its firm yet soft back, he let his head rest and eyes shut.____ Just a few moments to clear his mind refresh before the drive back to DC._

_"Agent Booth? Agent?! You might want to wake up." Booth opened his eyes confused, then it hit him, he was on Doc Digbys couch, ____Wake up? I just sat down.__ " Agent Booth you've been asleep for more than half an hour. I heard your phone, thought you might need to take the call." The young woman was standing by the end of the couch pointing at his jacket. Booth heard the faint ringtone. It was Bones. He took the call, fighting the urge to yawn but losing, _

_"Hey Bones, no..I haven't left the prison yet...no nothing much. I'll explain when I get there. Yeah? Oh that doesn't sound good. Okay see you in a you.", Booth hit "end call" then sat up on the edge of the couch preparing to leave._

_"Hey.. uh .. you were a lot of help. The Bureau thanks you. Now if you will excuse me I have another case.." Booth began to haul his six one frame up, when he felt small but firm hand on his shoulder. ,all five foot two of her, held him in place with ease. _

_"Not quite yet Agent Booth, I wanted to speak to you about ...well this case your on...I know I'm not FBI ...hell after today I may not even be a working therapist...but regardless. You are obviously exhausted, on edge and personally vested in this. You said this was about a childs death, then why are pictures of yourself and popping up on my laptop? What does it have to do with Jason Andrews ...and why would he have this book? " she held out the journal. "I didn't try to snoop. It was in your hands when you relaxed it fell to the floor open... its about your profiler... your friend? " She took her seat, in front of Booth. She reached between her and the chairs arm and produced a manilla folder, worn and creased." I searched the files in storage, this is the only file I could find on an Jason Andrews. It includes a psych evaluation and some tests. These were done as part of a research study about three years into his incarceration. Jason Andrews tested well above above average on intelligence. But what concerns me is the inconsistency in his answers on the surveys. You see this study was conducted over a period of a few months. Surveys with questions that were not simple yes/no types. The same questions would be asked each time. Jason Andrews had a lot to say..."_

_Agent Booth had trouble focusing on the road ahead, his mind was still processing what had said about Andrews. It cleared up some of the questions he had, but did't give him his killer. And from what Bones said on the phone this killer wasn't going to be a one hit wonder. _


	6. Chapter 6 Reunion

Hello? Anyone out there? If so please read and review :)

if there are missing names I'm sorry formatting issues smell

Oh yes, I do NOT own Bones, I know right? like anyone thought I did...

**On the way home from the fair, tired from all the excitement, from the rides ,the food ,the people, he slumped in the backseat of the stationwagon clutchng the big, green, stuffed gorilla his dad had spent countless time and money on winning. Green acrylic fur stuck between the cottoncandy fingers. He was just beginning to drift off, and although his eyes were mostly closed he could spy his Mom staring back ,taking in the sight of her young son, his cheeks reddend by the sticky sweet coating from the candy apple they had shared shortly before the bag of popcorn that was now forgotten and spilling down across the boys lap onto the floorboard. It had been a glorious afternoon turned to glorious night. Embraced by the warmth of her loving gaze Lance felt himself falling, the cars gentle vibration lulling him to sleep. He could hear a soft feminine voice, faint and faraway, laughing and talking. But that was replaced by the deep tones of a man, the voice from his nightmares. As he felt his fears rising his heart pounding he willed himself to wakeup. Any moment I'll wake up holding onto that gorilla for all its worth and Mom will tell me its all going to be alright, he was safe with them**...but that isn't what happened.

When he opened his eyes he was indeed in the backseat, but it was of the black Chevy SUV not his parents stationwagon, any attempt to clutch anything, let alone Mr. Aperrson, would have have been thwarted by the zipties cutting into his wrists, holding his arms firmly in place behind his back. The vehicle was parked and silent, he sat up frantically searching through the divider for any indication of their location. All he saw was an empty overgrown yard surrounded by a tall wrought iron fence,some huge boxwoods and a gravel drive. He didn't see Angela ma_ybe he let her go,maybe she was at the diner, then again maybe she was dead, already, _his thoughts raced back and forth between hope and horror. He was still trapped in the vehicle. The rush of adreniline, fueled by anger and fear, pushed away the effects of whatever drug he had in his system. He had to formulate a plan to get away _But what if he still has Angela, he said he would hurt her I know he will, he likes to hurt people. But this could be my only chance, I have to take it right? I should try, he will have to open the door, if I can suprise him..then maybe._ His mind serpentined to a decision. He slid to the center of the seat, so regardless of which door his captor opened he could manuever in the appropriate direction. Letting his body relax again as if still unconscious, he waited. Time crept by painfully slow, in the unrelenting stillness his own breathe seemed so loud that he became alarmed, it was all he could hear, and he might miss the sound of his approach. Then he heard it ,the crunch of gravel underfoot, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and the thunk of locks unlocking _time to move,quick just as you practiced in your mind. _The door on his right opened and as it did Lance kicked out catching the older man in the face with his stylish leather dress shoe. The man fell back reaching for his face, blood pouring through his fingers. In an awkard lunge Lance forced himself out of the Suburban. The vehicles high stance and his arms tied behind, sent him into a stumbling landing with one knee smashing into the crushed granite. He didnt have time to deal with the shooting pain coming from the injured knee. . Only a few yards away he could see the gated street entrance to the driveway. The gate was open.. he ran as hard as he could, the crunching of the gravel behind him spurred him to move faster, but his newly battered knee and bound wrists hampered his foward momentum. He suddenly found the air violently knocked from his lungs as he was tackled to the ground. His shoulder slamming the hard surface followed by the side of his head. Without hands to stop his fall and the full weight his attacker landing atop him he felt the pain of tendons and ligaments tearing. Hawkins shoved him over onto his back, sending pain screaming through his contorted shoulder until it became actual screaming. A tirade of incoherant curses and pleas for help filled the air but were soon little more than muffled attempts to just breathe, as sticky hands reeking of blood, covered his mouth and clutched his throat. The monster from his nightmares was back. And there was nothing he could do.

"Shut up!...(panting)..shut up! God damnit! I told ...( panting) ..you..not to try ...( long winded inhale,exhale) Damn, look, you almost made it.", he glanced at the gate then down at his captive. He had his knee propped on the young mans chest, a tight grip on his throat and a smothering hand across his mouth. Lack of oxygen and intense pain quickly took the fight out of the leaned forward until he was face to face with his prey, blood rolling down his face from the gash across his cheek dripped off his chin dotting the younger mans face with bright red spots. The eyes _Those same eyes _that stared at him were filled with a crazed mixture of pain, anger and fear. He could feel the rush of hot air at near hyperventilating pace across his knuckles. He loosened his grip a bit _Can't have you passing out here _

"Now that was really stupid...I told you no heroics. And here I thought you cared about that lady waiting for us inside?", _oh look at that, confusion, he really hoped I would let her go, she chose to stay, I gave her a chance "_That's right she's waiting for us inside right now...you don't want her to be disappointed do you? Now my boy, we are going to get up and walk inside...no more stupid moves ,right? You'll only hurt yourself...or her. As for this..", he removed the hand from Lances mouth and gestured to the bloody nose and cut cheek, "this is gonna cost you. Okay, do we have a clearer understanding of how things are going to go from here on out?"

The slightest of nods was the only indicator he received, though those beautiful brown eyes _his mothers eyes _stared into his filled with rage. _Good. _ Upon standing, he grasped the lapels of the ruined suit and pulled the younger man to his feet, the sudden movement sent a shudder of agony through the kid so intense his body weakened threatening to buckle at the injured knee. Hawkins held him up ,expecting him to push thru the pain, he had to support the broken man, leading him toward the rear entrance of the old victorian.

Angela heard the creaking of a heavy door opening and the plodding steps of someone coming down the steep staircase. She inhaled sharply at appearance of the pair entering the space. Hawkins crisp white shirt was covered in blood, a half inch long gash high on his left cheek was still oozing a bit. Judging by the bruising setting in under both eyes and the bloody streaks from his nostrils he had sustained a broken nose as well. _Good served his ass right. _But then she looked at the character dragging along beside him. Sweets pant leg was ripped about the knee, bright red and pale white peeked from behind the shredded dark grey material. His jackets shoulder seam was ripped on that side as well, and seemed to sit lower than the other. Further up the same side his ear and cheek had bright red abrasions with dirt, blood and tiny bits of graval sticking to it. Blood in smears and spots and dribbles painted his features in a macabre fashion. He was very pale, his bottom lip quivered as his jaw trembled from the trauma he was enduring. The pair shuffled into the room. Hawkins dumped Sweets into the hard wooden chair, he hung awkwardly in the seat unable to sit back due his bound limbs. Though Angelas eyes had yet to turn away from him, Lances own mahagony orbs had yet to meet with hers. He did not attempt move from the chair, awaiting whatever fortune the older man deemed fit to deal him. Hawkins returned from a quick trip into the other section of basement a pair of wiresnips in hand and a handful of the zipties they had become so well aquainted with. Reaching behind Sweets he cut the binding plastic allowing the pychologists arms free reign to fall foward, instead of relief Lances face contorted in agony as the one shoulder rotated with the ..movement of his hands. He couldn't help the cry of pain that escaped his lips. She watched helplessly as he grabbed the shoulder and doubled over. Hawkins stood by viewing the scene in stoic silence although his eyes did furrow a bit mimicing concern.

" See...see what happens when you don't listen!", their captor railed. Angela wasn't sure what would happen next as the man seemed beside himself with anger. " You've dislocated it, you should've listened! There's only one thing to do now, you know...", at that Lances head lifted enough to give a teary, red eyed glare at Hawkins. " It has to be to be done...you know that." Angela hated how easily Hawkins could shift into a consoling tone, begging to be trusted. To her astonishment Sweets just nodded before hanging his head once more. She watched the surreal scene unfold before her. Without any arguement Sweets allowed the older man to help remove the tattered jacket, revealing his bold blue shirt speckled with blood. Cooperating with each direction. He lay down on the twin bed as Hawkins gripped his hand tightly, planted his foot solidly against him, then pulled the arm out, maintaining even but intense pressure, Lanced cryed out as the joint finallly shifted back into its original position. Holding the arm tightly against him as he rolled away in a mix of relief and pain. With the tension released, the agonizing pain became a more bearable dull ache. Satisfied with the outcome Hawkins ordered him to take a seat in the chair. Still clutching his left arm tightly to his body the young man fell into the seat exhausted.

"There now thats better, right?, the man asked as if he were talking to a child. Reaching out for the right hand which he bound to the chairs arm, he opted to leave the other arm held in place against Sweets side, wrapping the arm and his chest in rope tied tightly to the chair. Without saying a word Sweets followed the mans movements with his eyes. Once he was finished, Hawkins disappeared once more into the other side of the basement. The captive pair were alone for the moment.

Angela attempted to engage Sweets attention with a pathetic muffled " mmmm", it took two tries but eventually he looked up from his stupor. She watched his eyes scanning her, pausing at the sight of bloody bound hands then again at her ankles, an increasingly distressed look taking over at each. His lips parted as if to say something but he remained mute, he looked in the direction their captor had gone and thinking better of it, simply mouthed the words " Are you okay?". Angela nodded. Before they could communicate further their kidnapper returned, minus the bloody dress shirt a grey v-neck tee in its place. He had exchanged the black dress pants as well, for worn jeans. The handtowel around his neck was damp, he held it against his cheek for a minute. The cut had ceased bleeding, his cheek was red and swollen though. Without blood obscuring her view Angela was little disappointed to see the bridge of his nose was likely not broken, but it had been bloodied. Removing the towel, he stepped up to Lance, grabbing a fistfull of dark brown hair he forcefully tilted his head back and to the side, with little care he roughly wiped away the dirt and dried blood until all that remained were the red scratches that the crushed granite had etched across his left side. Without a word he continued to attend to his prisioners wounds. Ripping the pants knee open completely exposing the now swollen joint which was encrusted in drying blood and bits of rock. Hawkins folded the towel to expose a cleaner section of terricloth. He slowly dragged it across the abraded skin, eyes locked with his patients, the rock grit and dirt scraping the wound more. From her position which was at a angle across from the chair Sweets was lashed to, Angela could view the staring match between the two men. Lance made no sound but was inhaling and exhaling so deeply she knew he was trying to control his reaction to obvious pain. He had much less control over the liquid reaction that was filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks as he blinked. But no sound. Even when the towel was folded once more and began the slow drag again. Hawkins seemed to enjoy the response. Deciding the wound was as clean as it could be, he stood, then tossed the crimson stained towel onto the table.

"Well, now maybe we can finally get this reunion underway. Without anymore accidents. Right, son?", the older man leaned against the table and folded his arms across his chest, looking expectantly down at Lance who glanced in Angelas direction before focusing on nothing with a look of introspection. "Sure..but she isn't part of ..your family, you should let her go home to hers." _It was a gamble pushing so soon for her release, but the earlier she left the less she would know about this guys plans the more likely I can convince him to let her go. I have to get Angela home safe._

_"_You said you would let her go before, so do it..now.", Sweets hated how his tone went from calm barganing into a pathetic plea.

" That ..was if you cooperated, and look how you reacted the moment you thought she was gone? Besides I like her...she reminds me of your mother a little.", Hawkins had walked over to Angela and crouched beside her, he gripped her jaw with his fingers so hard it left red marks as she finally pulled away from his face advancing on her as if to kiss her tape covered lips, so instead he let his cheek graze hers, he let his lips whisper in her ear as her dark flowing hair, soft and warm, was soon tangled in his fist. Jerking her head back he moved his hand down her jawline in favor of her long neck. He wrapped his fingers around her throat in a viselike grip. As the pressure on her trachea increased stopping her ability to breathe, her panicked wide eyes filled with tears.

"Stop!..Please just stop...you don't have to do this ...please! ", Lances pleading filled the room. His words seemed to fall on deaf ears, but just as Angela was about to pass out._Oh god!_ _I've got to think of something _"Dad!..Just stop...Dad please!..."

Letting go, Hawkins pulled his hand away taking the tape from Angelas mouth along with it. The sting from the tapes sudden removal and the ability to take in a huge breath left Angela coughing and wheezing as she recovered. The freedom was short lived however, once he knew she would be alright the strip returned to keep her quiet. She looked into the face of her attacker, a smug satisfied sneer appeared there. He continued to leer at Angela ,but addressed the distraught man behind him.

" What was that? Stop Dad?! Please DAD?! That's not what you said in the parking garage. No, I remember back there before -Hodgens interrupted ,"...that the only dad, real dad, you ever had was David Finnley." that old gueezer who adopted you. That I was just, "... some nightmare foster dad. I'm delusional and need help." Sound familiar?

" Sure. I remember ...I was... I was angry.", Lance wanted to say he remembered the times he was hit, was whipped, was locked away alone left to cry. He remembered all that too. And that was why David Finnley was his only father. The only one worth remembering. But right now wasn't the time for bravado. Right now, Angela was in real danger and he needed to make a connection with the madman who was holding her life in his hands.

Hawkins turned toward Lance, his hands curling and uncurling into fists. His hazel eyes narrowed. He stood there seeming unsure how to respond. Lance mentally readied himself for the blow that may be heading his way. But it didn't.

" You were angry? And just why were **you** angry? You didn't spend the last twenty-two years of your life paying for some stupid mistake! And that's all it was. Things may have gotten out of control that night... but I wouldn't have let you die. You have to know that ,right?", Hawkins whole demeanor had shifted. "I worked so hard to find you...then when I did I had to jump through hoops to bring you home." He turned back to Angela. "You want to know what he was like as a kid?" he said wryly. He pulled up the wooden stool and sat between his very captive audience members.

"One of best days of my life was the day the social worker brought my son home. He was four. Took after his mom with curly mop of brown hair and her eyes. And so smart, just like his dad. But I should have known from day one there would be trouble." He shot Sweets a harsh look, before continuing. "When the old social worker lady introduced us she told him, " This is your father and your new home." He was so small and hung back behind her...so I knelt down, and explained that I was his real daddy.", Hawkins laughed dryly, " You know what he said? Little shit looked me dead in the eyes and told me he didn't have a daddy or mama...called me a liar right to my face. Social worker apologized said he must have heard stuff like that from the older kids in the childrens home. So I brushed it off, it didn't matter, he was home that's all I cared about." He looked at Lance who just stared back with those deep brown eyes, behind them he could see the kids mind analyzing each phrase...judging him. _Her eyes still judging you._ Hawkins shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and shook his head as if trying to clear his mind. He shifted his gaze back to Angela.

"My wife, Karen...you remember her, don't you Lance ? You have too remember her. The way she doted on you? I would've been jealous... but hell, that was the reason I married her. A boy needs a mother. In fact, it was part of getting custody. I was so young, it helped the whole wife, job, and home. Yep, they had to give you to me then. And it was great! We were a family...just like I always wanted. I mean, sure it wasn't exactly what I wanted. I wanted it to be with your mother, but near enough." The man glanced down obviously lost in thought, in memories. Without looking up he began again.

"Your mother...god! how I loved her. She was beautiful, intelligent, and so..different you know? ...She really brought the best out in me. I would have done anything for her...she said she loved me too...so I proposed and she said yes. It was the best day...and then she was gone...just gone...no goodbye ...nothing.", the man said disbelievingly. "Heh, at first I thought something terrible had happened...I was going crazy..I was going to report her missing, but a friend of hers finally admitted that she was okay, that I should just let her go..Let her go?... Without an explanation? I thought ..thought maybe if she just told me what was wrong I could fix it. So I found her." As he talked the emotion became evident in his voice.

"She said ...said that we were a mistake... that I was too young, too ...conventional. Lily wanted to travel, see the world...free. No strings. She said she did love me, but not as much as she did her own freedom. I was heartbroken, but if it was what she wanted...", Hawkins straightened up, running his hands over his face rubbing away the look of hurt.

"A couple of months later I ran into a guy we both knew, just an odd aqquaintence, come up to me wanting to shake my hand..congratulations on the bun in the oven. He hadn't heard we were broke up. I was in shock. First I lose the only woman I'll ever love, then I find out she's pregnant too. You bet, I hunted her down again, but she knew I was looking for her. Even left a letter with a friend of hers, to give to me. It said, she had loved me...but admitted something about me worried her...she wasn't sure what it was...but said it would be better to give up our child then have either of us raise it. **She decided**, as if it was her decision alone ...as if I didn't matter at all!" He glared at Angela , "Women! Think they hold all the cards when it comes to the children. I showed her though. I found out where she left you. I found my kid..a son."

"But the system, they didn't want to let me take custody...I had to prove you were mine...that took time and money. And then they had issues with the "home environment" I could provide. I was twenty when you born, it took four years of hassling with the system before you could come home. That's why you were never adopted... I wouldn't let them. I am your father, and a father has rights too!",

While Hawkins spun his tale, Angela watched for any reaction from Sweets. At the mention of this Karen, his eyes narrowed and that searching look, as if trying to recall some lost memory. Judging at the expression left it must have been unpleasant. But then as Hawkins delved into the part about his real mother, it changed to pure fascination. _What a heartbreaking beginning poor Sweets._ She was half tempted to feel bad for Hawkins, but he had done so much harm ,caused too much needless pain. _Screw him!_ She thought of her own loves, how she would miss them ..if. She could hardly contemplate never seeing her son again or leaving her beloved Jack. Angela could feel the warmth slidding down her cheeks and the tightness in her chest. She had to get out of this._ I've got to make home for my son for my husband. _As the tears increased, so did the sounds of her muffled sobbing. Hawkins was suddenly enraged, he reached over and ripped away the tape causing Angela to yelp.

"Crying. That's all women and children are good at! Snivelling, whimpering crying! Lying and crying!", he stood over her screaming, "What are you crying for! "

Angela was so shocked by the unexpected explosion blasted at her she could barely find her voice. " You..your..story. I..I just want to see my own son... please...Aagh.! " His hand shot out gripping her throat again, this time there was no smug look, no whispered "watch this". This time there was malice, loathing and hate in his eyes. Angela could hardly hear Sweets shouting protests, over her own heartbeat pounding in her ears. She couldn't breathe, all she could think of was her family and her need for oxygen. Then suddenly the stranglehold was gone and air ,sweet oxygen filled air, rushed into her aching lungs. Over her own engorging inhales, a barrage of enraged curses flew throughout the room. Hawkins was bouncing around holding the side of his left knee. He had not bound Sweets feet, and overestimated the distance between the two chairs, leaving himself within range to receive a painful sidekick to his knee. It had broken him from his murderous trance. But the cost was high.

"You goddamn.. motherf...oh damn! Ohh.. ugh.", Hawkins regained his compousure enough to limp up behind Sweets chair. Holding the back with both hands for support, he let out a breathy ugly laugh.

" You really think that was a wise thing to do? I already owe you for this cheek, now this.." His hands travelled from the wooden chair to the shoulders of the young man, who flinched visibly at the touch. Although Sweets hung his head, Angela saw his eyes close ,the calculated steady breathing, and trembling fist tied to the chair arm. He was bracing himself for ...more pain.

"You were losing control...you didn't hear me. I had to get your attention.I didn't mean to.. to.. hurt you",_ Oh what a pathetic lie. Damn, right I wanted to hurt you! At least his attention's on me now not Angela. Now if I can keep it that way. _Sweets kept his tone calm and apologetic.

" You were talking about...Karen, I think I remember her ..._Do I remember her? _", Sweets decided talking about this Karen was safer then any talk of Lily. But he wasn't sure what to say, he only had a vague notion of a smiling blonde woman with soft grey blue eyes, fleeting glimpses most often brushed aside by dark hurtful memories that liked to linger. _Get him to talk, if he's talking he isn't doing other things._ He shuddered inwardly, experiencing the pressure of thumbs massaging across his scarred shoulders. The thin blue material was hardly enough to shield him from feeling the edge of unclipped nails digging into him. _Please talk just talk._

"So you want to talk about Karen?", he asked mockingly, kneading his thumbs with ever greater leaned down, his hot breath whispered into his captives ear.

"Nice try son." The older man could sense the kids disappointment through his hands. _Boy thinks he's soo smart. _Hawkins let go of his shoulders, ruffled Lances hair then strolled off into the other side of the basement.

Angela didn't know what was going to happen next, she was terrified for both of them. The way Hawkins walked off, almost pleased with himself, worried her for sure.

When their tormenter returned he had two things. In the left hand was a large flat phone. But it was the right hands contents that caused the anguished look on the womans features. A length of very heavy gauge cable with good amount of the twisted cooper wire exposed on one end. At least an inch in diameter, the outer sheathing was black. Instead of round the cable had a triangular shape. She understood immediately the intended use.

Once it became clear there would be no further conversation, Lance could only hang his head waiting for the inevitable. Hawkins departure sealed the deal. He knew when he returned he would have..something. Be it a length of rope, a electrical cord...maybe even an actual whip. He had no doubt about the what. But the who? That could go either way or both ways. He couldn't stand the thought of Angela enduring that sort of torture, scars marring that beautiful skin. He glanced at her just in time to see horror shade her features. In surreal contrast, an upbeat Hawkins limped in between them a large smartphone in his hand. Blocking Angelas veiw with his back, he faced Lance, crouching he held the phone so Lance could see the screen. What he saw made him sick. An excited toddler was climbing up a slide, his reddish blonde curls moved by the slight breeze as he slid down. Blue eyes sparkling as he laughed. As he scurried around the slide his head suddenly turned in the direction of the camera, he waved then returned to his play. Though mute was on, Lance knew the filmer of this moment had called Michael Vincents name, had him wave hello. The date was today. The time he guessed could be now, just noticing his lack of wristwatch, the light seemed right for midafternoon. Someone was watching the boy, someone who can get extremely close.._he would do it too you know he will... _close enough to take him, hurt him.

Try as she might Angela couldn't see around the back or their captor. Their low whispering meant she couldn't hear a word of their conversation either. _What the hell is he doing with that phone? Dammit! _ The artist did still have a view of Sweets bound hand, once a fist, was now open palm down on the wide oak armrest shaking violently. She strained harder to hear the the baritone mumbling. She could only make out the words "I promise" escaping from the liars lips of their captor as he slowly rose to his feet. Sweets was agreeing to something, nodding his head. Again Hawkins disappeared into the dark , Angela took the opportunity to mouth " What's going on? ". Lance mouthed back "Your going home." Hawkins returned, as if on cue, he went to work untieing the bindings that held Sweets, who shuddered as his left arm moved. He used a pair of wire snips to cut the ziptie from his wrist. Lance made no motion to move, to attack, to run... nothing. Nothing until he slid forward in the chair til he was perched on the edge. He moved to undo his tie, the sudden jolt in his shoulder reminded him to use only his right hand. Panting a bit from the harsh reminder, Lance slid the tie off then worked to unbutton the blue dress shirt. A difficult task with one hand was becoming harder as nervous anxiety caused the one hand to shake, he began fumbling. Hawkins stood by, face expressionless. Lance paused long enough to take a deep breath, his hand was steadier, and finally he mastered the correct technique. Soon the shirt was completely undone, again he paused, thinking about just how to go about removing the garment without lifting his left arm.

Angela was an unwilling spectator of her friends excruciatingly awkward undressing, she would have helped him if she could, but she also understood what that action meant...what was going to happen. She let the tears fall silently this time, terrified any sound she made would enrage the madman again.

Hawkins growing impaitent ordered Sweets to his feet, he grabbed and removed the shirt by the right cuff, then pulled the shirt around and down the left arm. The azure material was tossed carelessly, landing against an increasingly agitataed Angelas feet. The loud scrape of the heavy oak chair sliding out of the center of the space, caused Sweets to jump. He was keeping an eye on Angela whose rising panic was threatening to lead her scream out against what was about to take place. Taking a huge risk he edged up close to her, close enough she could cleary see the lines along his back, he knew Hawkins noticed the move and did not seem to object, so faced the near hysterical woman. The young pyschologist knelt down as much as his wounded knee would allow then spoke calmly and quietly to his friend.

" Angela, you need to calm down, please calm down... you know how he reacts to crying, okay ..look I'll be fine. It's all going to be okay...you have to trust me. You have to calm down...if not for yourself then for Michael..for Jack...for me? ", He reached out laying his hand on hers. "Do we have a deal?" He said with a very weak half smile. His chocolate brown eyes though relayed nothing but anxiety. Forcing herself to remain quiet Angela agreed. Satisfied he got up, walked toward the center of the room where Hawkins had placed the stool. He sat down facing Angela, hoping to spare her some of the gruesome spectacle, but Hawkins had him turn his back to her anyway.

"Let's see what's a good round number? Maybe twenty- two the number of years I've been away, maybe twenty- eight ...aw hell let's just see where the mood takes me!"

Somewhere after the tenth flesh rendering strike Angela realized she was being hit by steady rain of blood flying back off the whip. More then once he had fallen from the stool, crumpled on the floor. Only to be dragged back first blows had been met with a relative quiet yelps, but as the exposed cooper did its job cutting groove after bloody groove, all Sweets resolve was replaced by gut wrenching pleas to please stop. Angelas own cries were drowned out. When it was finally over Sweets was lying on the dirty concrete, covered in scarlet and dust.

Hawkins himself was breathing hard after so much physical exertion. The anger had drained away with each strike. He walked toward the bleeding heap, Angela shouted fearfully

"Stay away from him you bastard! " Hawkins just looked at her unmoved, continuing with the next task.

"Come on... you need to get up. Lance? Come on...", gone was the harshness, the venom, "Come on, Son you can't stay on that dirty floor...Do you hear me? Hawkins was becoming oddly panicked until finally a hand reached up. Hawkins took it and helped Sweets to a standing, though bent and broken, stance. Instead of the stool, chair or even the bed, the man led Sweets into the other side of the room. Angela saw a light come on, heard some quiet argument, then the sound of a shower going. Soon the pair reappeared. Lances hair was a mass of wet ringlets, the dust and much of the blood had been washed down the drain. But new trails of red were winding away from each darker red line etched across his entire back. She noticed his ripped and torn dress pants where replaced with a pair of grey sweats that read FBI on the side. A crimson spot had bled through to the oustide over the busted up knee. Hawkins led his charge to the black metal bed. Sweets fell onto his stomach, and seemed to pass out upon landing.

The man seemed glad the chore was over. He walked over to Angela, picked up the discarded shirt, he wiped away the majority of plasma that had speckled her pretty face, her long bare arms. He looked around, then unable to find what he was looking for he ripped the garment apart using half of it he gagged her. He disappeared once more, again she heard the shower. She stared at the man lying on the bed, hoping he was even breathing, she couldn't hear him or see him breathing. _Oh god, Oh god he's dead oh god _She began to panic. His foot moving sent a wave of relief washing over her. Hawkins returned in fresh clean clothes, keys and phone in hand. He set the phone and keys down on the table, he was lost in thought, he went back and forth from one section to other. On the last return, Angela watched as the man dragged the wooden chair to the bedside. He held a vial in his hand and a syringe. After measuring the doseage he administered the drug into Sweets arm. She noted how practised and sure he was. Another vial another shot. What the man did next only confused the woman. After setting the vials and syringes down on the wide armrest, he remained there one arm streached out with his hand on his patients forearm ,which was lying now arched around a mop of unruly brown hair. Hawkins was lost in his own thoughts as he just stared at the unconscious form in front of him and the sight of his cruel handy work. Angela watched in shock as the mans posture dropped into a hunch, his free hand swept across his forehead and down his face, rubbing his temples, then over his mouth. If she didn't know better she might have thought he was about to cry, but she knew better, monsters don't cry. And this one didn't either...he pulled himself up straight, pulling his hand away from Sweets arm as if it were a flame, and went back to his preparations. When everything was good to go, he approached Angela.

"Okay let's get you out of here.", Hawkins tone was pleasantly upbeat, much like it was during their ride into hell. "It's getting late, I'm sure your family will be missing you, soo...you're going to be a lady and come along no problems right?" _There's that stupid warm friendly smile of his, God! I just want to...no, no calm yourself Angela, you need to get away from here you can't help anyone ..here. _She nodded in agreement. "Good. Now I'm going to cut loose your feet, then free you from this old seat here, see now that's got be more comfortable." Angelas numb feet barely registered the rough cold surface of the concrete floor. Her whole body ached and tingled as proper circulation returned. She recoiled at his touch as he pulled her up from her wingback prison. On unsteady barefeet she made she way across the room, as they neared the black metal frame she feigned tripping, landing on her knees beside her prone friends bedside, she jerked the gag away with her still bound hands, encouraging words of love and hope and promises tumbled out in quick succession, before she was strong armed away.

Before stepping outside the door Hawkins produced the other half of the shirt and used it to blindfold the woman. That trick to talk to his son before leaving, had pissed him off a bit but he let it go._ I have what I want, let her make all the promises she wanted..women were good at that... I know she will go telling ol FBI Special Agent Seely Booth all about it, she will find this neighborhood, this street and even the house, and him and all his agent buddies will come storming in, " big man" himself leading the charge! Won't he be disappointed._


	7. Chapter 7 Middle of Nowhere

**And here we are Chapter 7 Middle of Nowhere**

**Once again much thanks to those enjoying, tolerating and enduring the story up to this point! **

**Those who read & review are especially cherished.**

*****_I apologize for any dropped names, it is a mystery to me, I edit, but upon publishing *poof* its like magic! Evil dark magic._

**I claim no ownership of Bones or its characters.**

"I'm going to let you go home, to that cute little boy of yours for three reasons. One, I understand how hard it is for a parent to be without their child. Secondly, letting you live, really helps me build trust with my boy, he's willing to do anything to save you and keep lil Micheal Vincent safe. Most importantly, you will keep the feds away for the next three days, I expect you to keep our run in today a secret, and if anyone asks where Lance has gotten to, you tell'em how he left to assist Agent Hawkins up from the Dallas office. Should you decide to be a hero, that sweet lil' boy of yours will pay the price. Do we understand each other?" , Hawkins shoved Angela into the dirty, defunct phone booth then placed her cell phone into her ziptie bound hands. He ripped off the swath of blue cloth that had blindfolded the artist. Wide-eyed full of fear and anger, Angela was shaking so hard the phone slipped. Hawkins picked up the device, put it back in her trembling hands and clasped his hands around hers. Leaning so close they were nearly touching noses, his hazel eyes boring into her own coffee brown eyes.

"Now you stay right here, in an hour you will have a signal and can call your husband to pick you up. Remember, you tell them anything about me or Lance before seventy-two hours are up and your son, well, he's not my type but I know know a couple of ex-prison buddies who would love to spend some quality time with him.", Hawkins threatened smiling maniacally. He slammed the rickety booth door shut, and was gone. Angela remained huddled on the dirty floor of the booth clutching the phone. She told herself to calm down, she needed to stop all this useless crying. Pull herself together and get the hell home. Straightening herself up, she took stock of her surroundings. The phone booth was dusty, its plexiglass walls yellowed, cracked and cloudy from dirt and neglect. The phone itself had long ago been removed, leaving only the mount and the empty phonebook chain hanging. Her wrists were bloody and raw from struggling against the sharpedged zipties over the last several hours. A film of blood and sweat covered the phone smearing the screen. She stared at the device willing the no service icon to disappear to no avail. The cubicles cramped confines made standing up difficult, especially without the aid of her hands, but eventually she managed to get upright on her knees then her barefeet. With much more effort she pushed the booth door open. Looking around Angela found herself standing in front of an abandoned gas station. Greying ,graffitied plywood covered the windows of the small white block store, a rusty padlock held the door closed. The Last Stop Gas & Sip. Angela could just make out the words emblazoned on the wall in peeling and chipping red letters. Beneath a failing aluminum shelter was the weedy remains of the concrete island. The gas pumps were gone. Angela knew from the woods that surrounded the building and stretched beyond her view in both directions and both sides of the simple two lane road she was alone in the middle of nowhere. Looking up she noticed the sky was growing dim, she checked the phone it was nearly five thirty pm. She had been gone for nearly seven hours surely Jack was wondering were she was by now. She checked the phone once more, still no service. How was he able to do that, just block her phone? _God how she hated this guy!_ Aaargh! she screamed out her frustrations. The endless trees and lonely asphalt did not respond. Angela sat down on the edge of the concrete base that supported a rusty light pole. She pulled her knees in close, wrapping her long arms around, then rested her head against them allowing herself to sob quietly, as she waited for a signal.

Dr. Jack Hodgens had been very busy. The dump site of the "goth kid" had been covered in insect activity, fibers and other samplable materials. It would take days to sift through everything. He hoped Angie would forgive him for abandoning her, at the Hoover, to hitch a ride with Sweets to the diner. He had been so immersed in his bugs and dirt, he hadn't even called to see how her day had been. When he didn't see her back at the lab he assumed she had gone to unwind, wandering one of the art museums, a habit she had began since the Forrester case. He thought about how this latest body discovery might affect her as well. Another kid, thirteen maybe fourteen, found in the private shower of a maintenance room in a high school in northern Virginia slated for demolition next month, it was some tresspassing teenagers that had discovered the body. The delapidated old school was in a terrible state of decay. Vandals had busted windows which allowed vermin of all sorts the run of the place. The janitors office had been in the basement of the building, busted pipes allowed the basements cinderblock walls to shift, allowing a slurry of gravel and mud to cover tile of the shower stall. The body had been placed there after the damage. The site had to have some sort of significance to the killer or victim, it wasn't easy to get to. Hodgens decided to let Booth and Sweets figure that sort of thing out, he had enough work ahead of him. With each sample he hoped something would standout. Maybe the ghastly black and white face paint was special. He would get going on the chemical analysis first thing. Then there were the ashes. Ashes had been found on the remains of Brian Forrester, nothing too unique, from a cigarello, brand Black&Mild. That wouldn't id anyone, it was the most common type smoked, but, it could link the murders. He knew the murders shouldnt be linked. Child killers, pedophiles tended to stick to an age group. The age gap here was wide. But there were other factors. The dumpsites, the staged scenes and most of all the victims physical attributes. Despite the black dye job he saw the brown eye brows and knew the boy had brown hair with natural curls that had grown to his shoulders in wavy locks. Brown too were his eyes. Brian Forrester if he had lived nine more years and taken up the goth look. Dr Sayroyan and Dr. Brennen had not said much about the pretty obvious connection. They probably just wanted to finish their examinations before drawing any conclusions. Come to think of it both of his collegues had been rather reserved since the Forrester case began_. Everyone acted different when the victim was a child._ For the next three hours, he tested and identified and catalogued findings, when Hodgens finally picked up his phone to see what his wife was up to it was nearly five twenty pm. Oh man, he had lost track of time. They would need to get Micheal Vincent from daycare soon. He pulled his beautiful wifes image on his cell, then tapped the call icon. Instead of his ladys soothing voice he heard a computer generated voicemail prompt. That's different. He tried texting, but received no reply. Okay now he was getting worried. He rushed to Cams autopsy room.

"Hey Cam. Have you seen or heard from my wife? I've been busy with the new case.. I tried calling and texting but haven't gotten a response. Do you know where she went? Last time I saw her was at the Hoover. She was going to get a lift with Dr. Sweets." , looked up from the body on her table.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen or heard from Angela all day, but then I have been pretty busy as well. You know since this whole Brian Forrester case she's been a little distant from her work. She's probably just off painting at that waterfall she likes, you know how iffy service is in that park."Cam said reassuringly.

"Yeah, that's most likely it. Thanks ." Jack Hodgens went back to his bug room. He was about to resume his work when his phone began singing loudly.

"Angela... wait calm down, slow down... where are you? What do you mean your not sure.. okay please calm down.. are you hurt? Oh thank God!" Jacks calm quickly devolved as the panic in his wifes voice flowed thru the phone into him.

Angela had stared at the screen so long she began to wonder if it would really ever have a signal or if it would turn out to be some cruel trick. She was exhausted and scared. Scared for Sweets. Scared for her son. And scared for herself. The fear was exhausting. She had almost dozed off when the phone vibrated with life, the screen lit up with missed calls, text alerts and other nonsense alerts. Jack had been looking for her. She tapped call. Relief poured over her when her husband yelled her name so excitedly it hurt. The words came spilling out awash in panic and fear.

"Oh Jack...Jack you've got to come get me. I'm not sure where I'm am! BFE is my best guess! Look I'm at someplace ... called, uh, Last Stop Gas & Sip, I was ...um... _oh damn what do I say?_ ...dumped here by some teenage hoodlums..they mugged me then kidknapped me.. no I'm fine, I' m not hurt Jack! JUST COME GET ME NOW!.. I'll explain everything ...just hurry!" Angela yelled at Jack. She just wanted to get back to her son. She needed to feel him safe in her arms. Then she would see to it that Sweets would get home safe too.

By the time Jacks red mini cooper sped into view the sun was gone. Only the weak glow of the old exterior light lit the area. Jack jumped from the car and ran to embrace Angela. He kissed her, ran his hands down her form checking for any injuries. He gasped at the sight of her bloodied wrists, whipping out his Swiss army pocketknife he cut her loose, then inspected the cuts left behind. Finally satisfied Angela was ok, he wrapped her shaking body in a strong safe hug. Showering her troubled soul with "Its okays" and "I love yous", the frightened women in his arms, eventually, began to calm down. Angela wiped her eyes as she pulled back from the sheltering embrace, " I love you too. Lets just get home." Jack opened the door and helped his love into the car. As she flopped into the seat and pulled the flowing skirt of her dress he noticed, with renewed concern, blotchy stains spotting the pale yellow material. He jumped behind the wheel and raced down the dark, winding, country road.

After a few moments of relative silence, save for the occasional sniffs from his better half, Jack Hodgens inquistive side was dying for the details , mainly, so his protective side could hunt down the punks and beat the hell out of them. He couldn't stay his tongue any longer. " Angela...Honey... you need to tell me what happened. When we get back...after we have a doctor check you out...we will need to report this to..."

"No! No Jack! I told you I wasn't hurt.. just shaken up..I want to go home, no doctor, no police. Just take me home to my son." Her voice had that stubborn finality about it, Jack knew too well, so for now at least, he would do as she asked. " Please Jack, just trust me okay? I just need to get home." Hodgens glanced at his wife, her face obscured by a veil of large dark curls, she was staring at her lap, her fingers tracing the outline of a dusky rose. Then a shocking thought occurred to him, there were no red roses on her pale yellow dress with the off white roses, not a one. What the hell had happened? The next half hour passed by in apprehensive silence. When they finally arrived at their street the silence was shattered by strains of "The Coconut Song" filling the cars interior. Angela stared in horror at the onboard screen.

"Hey, its Sweets, good.. I've got a bone to pick with him." He put the call on speaker.

"Umm ..Uh hello? Hodgens?", Sweets voice filled the car. It was tremelus and weak.

"Yeah hey Sweets!...What the hell!...leaving Angela to walk to the diner alone...she was mugged and kidknapped by some thugs, left in the middle of nowhere!...

"What?... Oh,uh I'm so sorry..Angela? Are you okay?...I ..I didn't know I..uh.." the young mans voice was faltering fast with so much guilt Hodgens almost regretted being so harsh. "Angela are you alright? *cough* cough*."asked the disembodied voice again.

Hodgens watched his wife carefully, he could barely see her in the cars dim interior but saw the shift in her posture and the glint of tears streaming down her cheeks. He also noticed the change in tone.

"Lance! Hey Sweetie, yes, yes! I'm completely fine. Don't worry about me..okay? I'll be just fine. What about you? Are you ..okay?" Hodgens felt like he was listening to her talk to Micheal Vincent. Several seconds passed in silence. "Sweets! Sweetie are you still there?"Angela was suddenly very panicked.

"Angela ..I'm still here...I'm fine. I ..I'm still with Agent Hawkins...we will be out of cell service soon. Just needed to hear you say you remember that ...deal...we had? You won't forget it...right? Its very important to me."

"What deal? Ange? " a confused Hodgens interrupted,"Look Sweets now is not the time for this.. Angela was attacked..." Angelas sudden tight grip on his shoulder and wide-eyed silent reprimand stopped his beginning rant cold.

"Lance ... I remember." The break in her voice only served to increase Jacks worry. He began to vocalize it to Angela when Sweets tired voice broke in.

"Hey guys I...I need to go...I am so sorry...for everything." Silence.

Angela and Hodgens stared at the screen. Angelas tenuous calm erroded into uncontrollable sobbing. A confused Jack Hodgens pulled into the driveway. Home at last.

"Angie Honey, we're here. Without a second look back at her husband Angela vacated the car and rushed into their home. She found her son playing with his toy blocks on the living room floor. Jack watched as she scooped the child up into her arms. His promise fulfilled, Jack left his wife and child together in the room to see the sitter out. When he returned, Angela and Michael had moved to the large rocker recliner and she was quietly reading to him. Jack made his way to his study, he had a few calls to make.

"I'm telling you, Booth she won't tell me anything..no she says she is fine. I'm hoping she will let Cam check her out. Hey, did you hear anything from Sweets. He called just as we got home, said he was with another agent. Hawkins? Yeah, that's what he said, but man you should've heard those two, it was like ..I don't know... they are hiding some big secret. Alright. I'll see if I can get her to talk to me. Thanks." Jack hung up the phone. Time to focus on his wife.

Booth hung up with Hodgens. Angela needed to make a statement but he knew how stubborn she could be. The time she went to jail rather than testify against Bones dad proved the depth of her resolve. Maybe Bones could speak to her, get her to come around. Then he thought about the day they had. Another boy dead, another kid that looked like his wayward profiler. _Who the hell was Hawkins_? He decided first thing in the morning he would find out. No one takes off with one of his team without his say so. He had left Sweets out of the most recent case because of his connection to the Forrester case. His interviews at the prison had not revealed any obvious leads to their killer. Just more insight into what a piece of work Andrews was. The idea that Sweets had to live with a monster like that, kids put through that sort of thing usually turn out crazy or criminals...the thought led Booth to cringe. The thought that on the surface of it, Sweets should be a viable suspect. He knows the injuries, was literally under the radar during the time of death and is able to get into the mindset of a killer. But Booth hadn't really allowed that thought to make it to the surface. He knew Sweets wasn't a killer. He definately knew he could never inflict the sorts of injuries these boys suffered...he suffered. So no matter what seemed logical. Sweets was not a killer. Booth knew it but hoped this Agent Hawkins checked out ,otherwise it would look like Sweets had run off. What was he thinking, leaving now?

"Who was that on the phone?", Bones strolled into their bedroom, dressed for bed. " I thought I heard Angela mentioned ,is everything alright? She climbed in beside Booth, resting her head on his shoulder. After Booth related Angelas recent misadventures, Bones was very distressed to think about how close she had come to losing her best friend, she knew she would not be able to sleep until she heard Angela tell her she was ok herself, as illogical as that may be. Her first impulse was to call Angela, its what she would do for her, but she knew it was late, her friend, exhuasted, would likely already be asleep. Brennens brain won the tug of war, she snuggled up against a snoozing Booth to face a restless sleep, she would check on Ange first thing in the morning.

Jack gingerly pryed his son from Angelas sleeping embrace. The copy of "The Kissing Hand" had slipped from her grasp onto the floor several minutes ago. The dozing child barely stirred as his father placed him into bed and gave his forehead a tender goodnight kiss. Jack returned to his wife still asleep in the chair. He knew he needed to wake her. He knew she should go the police. She should let a doctor check her out. Jack knew all that, but, Jack knew his wife too. Until she was ready..she would do niether. He took a moment to look, really look, at Angela in bright light provided by the chairside lamp. His heartached when he saw the darkening brusies on her neck and jaw, the red, raw scratches around her wrists and the ruddy brown splotches of blood staining the yellow dress. Too much blood he thought, to have come from her wrists. She insisted she wasn't hurt, that she was fine. Jack hoped that was true, that the blood was one of her abducters. She was a fiesty woman, maybe she got a good shot in. God he hoped that was the case. The alternatives were too horrible to contemplate. Just as he was about to wake her, Angela began mumbling as she shook her head."No...no..leave him alone! Stop!.. No you can't have him... no oh god no ...Michael! not my baby..Michael!", the quiet mumbling had given away to full on screams. Angela awoke terrified when she realised her son was gone. "Michael!" Hodgens took Angela into his arms trying to calm her down.

"Its okay, Angela its okay! Michael Vincents safely tucked in his bed asleep. Alright? I promise he is safe." Jacks calm, soothing voice brought some comfort to his wife. Angela swiped a few tears from her cheek and took a couple of deep breaths.

"In his bed? Safe?... of course he is.", Angela was shaking off the last remnants of the nightmare she had just left. "I'll just go check on him..." as she attempted to rise from the recliner Jack placed his hands on her shoulders forcing her to remain seated.

"Jack what are you doing?", Angela tilted her head and gave her husband an aggravated scowl.

"Look Angela, I know you don't want to talk about it, but Darlin you have to let me in. Michael is safe. You know that. Now please... just tell me everything...I need to know you are truly okay.", Jacks azure eyes pleaded with her.

Angelas scowl softened into pitiful despair. In defeat she sat back into the comfy chair. Jack knelt down in front of her taking her hands into his.

"Alright ...I'll tell you now.", Angela began her story. " First, don't blame Sweets for anything...he didn't leave me I decided to walk to the diner myself. It was such a beautiful day. I was walking down the street...when.. uh ...when suddenly a shirt or something was covering my face...I heard a car..three voices...young...like teenagers...they bound my hands...it was terrible Jack I thought they were going to rape or kill me but they didn't ...nothing... they threatend me...but I think they were just messing around... getting their jollies by scaring the shit out someone...oh and my purse they took that. That was that. Next thing I know I was dumped off at the Last Stop Gas & Sip. I promise you I am completely fine save a few brusies..okay?" Her coffee colored eyes bore through him. He could tell she meant it when she said she was fine ...physically... but she was holding back.

"What about this?" Jack held up a stained bit of her dress." Whose blood is this?"

"Oh...that..that is from one of the guys...I was thrashing about and headbutted one of them...must've broken a nose or busted a lip. You know how feisty I can be. There you have it Babe, the whole story. I was so afraid I would never see you or Michael again.", Angela leaned forward wrapping her husband into a crushing embrace accompanied by a long deep kiss. Pulling back she released the hug and took his face into her hands. Again they kissed as each mummered "I love you". Jack stole one more soft kiss then moved to stand. He pulled Angela up from the chair.

"I am satisfied your alright. You go enjoy a hot shower or bath...get comfortable. If you want, Michael can sleep with us tonight, you will have us both with you safe and sound. Does that sound good?"

"That sounds wonderful, thank you. You are such a wonderful man.", She kissed his cheek as she passed by heading to the masterbath.

Angela examined herself in the large mirror. The marks left by Hawkins deathgrip on her throat were turning an ever darker shade of blue-grey. The cuts on her wrists had began scabbing over and were tender to the slightest touch. In the brightly lit room the bloodstained dress arrested her attention. Her friends blood. Seeing the streaks and blotches she understood why Jack was so concerned. It was too much blood. Her mind dragged her back to that room the cries of pain, the sound of the a makeshift whip connecting with flesh, feeling blood warm and sticky soak into the thin material and how it smeared on her hands. She looked at her hands. Shocked by the dried rusty red blood still visible in the crevices of her nails and lines of her hands. She rushed to the marble basin, and began washing them, lathering then rinsing ,then repeating. Tears flowing down her face. Hands clean, she discarded the dress onto the floor then stepped into the shower. She had hoped the intense spray of steaming hot water would allow her a moments respite from the image of a bloody and broken Sweets begging for him to stop. But alone in the confines of the shower the memory overwhelmed her. Her whole body shook as falling tears mixed with falling water. The feeling of despair intensefied, she leaned her weakening body against the cool wet tile, sliding down until she was sitting hugging her knees crying as the showers spray pelted her skin. She never even noticed Jack slipping inside the room to retreive the dress. No, Angela was not there she was far away in that dingey basement room, helpless and scared but not alone...like he was now. She was home safe with her family, no worse for wear, because Lance had begged their captor to spare her. The young man had submitted himself to torture willingly to keep her safe. He had bargained for there lives. Her life and the life of her son. The madman had kept his promise, he let her go, but threatened her son if she told the truth too soon. Seventy-two hours! How much more pain would he inflict in that time? What if he killed him?_ What if he loses control again?_ She thought about just calling Booth..tell him everything... locate the house..let Booth and the might of the FBI come to the rescue. But Hawkins threats against Michael and Sweets lives paralyzed any move to action...yet. Thinking about how she could best help Sweets, Angela forced herself to regain her composure, finish cleaning up, get dressed for bed. She would need to get some rest, she had an Queen Anne victorian to locate in the morning. She climbed into the kingsized bed between her husband and son. She cuddled her babe, as Jack stirred then wrapped his arm around her. Safely ensconced in loves embrace the womans exhausted body crashed into sleep.


	8. Chapter 8 Fun For All

**A New chapter #8 **

**Ok this is a little out of sequence but that's okay. The first part is Hawkins thoughts during certain scenes during the the last two chapters, if you've been keeping up, then it will become clear as you read. Also if it drops names again apologize. I have enjoyed writing this thus far, and really appreciate the reviews, favs, and follows. Keep it up its soo inspiring!**

**I DO NOT OWN BONES **

_Look at her, eyes so full of rage...hehe and fear...she'd kill you if she could...let'er live an she'll run off to that FBI jerkoff Booth, tell 'im where you are ...everything you've done...jus like every other stupid bitch you've ever trusted ... jus a lil more pressure... bet I can snap that pretty long neck...Aaaaggghh! _Pain shooting through his knee broke his hold on the womans throat and broke the spell he was under long enough to save her, for him to hear ..him. He was screaming again, "Please! and "Stop", he was always screaming those words, ..._such a lil' begger, a whiney , crying bitch...No not a bitch, just your son, who needs a lil' reminder, that's all. I'll just have to remind 'im, whose in charge..._

_You can beat him all you want ,but if its obedience...true cooperation you want, maybe even trust ...well now, that requires , coersion not concussions. I have everything under control... all set up. I'll just show him this, ...explain how his total cooperation will be in everyones best interest. He'll agree so fast it'd make your head spin. He would do anything to protect her, her son and all those other people he's so fond of. Kid dosen't care care about himself...use that. I'll let that lovely lady go home too, with a healthy dose of fear of course, buy us some time. Three days should be about enough. The more time the better. Am I right? _It worked, _planning ahead always pays off , _he didn't resist punishment at all.

_It is awful what is required of a parent sometimes, but discipline...discipline is important. Especially after everything that happened...he needs to understand, I don't want to hurt him...I love him, but I will not tolerate disrespect. I worked so hard...for him. It is just going to take time...maybe he will remember the good times...and maybe he will forgive me for losing control that night. I just want my family again. I deserve the time I lost back...he deserves his father. Look at him, he has to get up ...he needs me to help him. _"Come on Lance you have to get up..." _See how he is reaching out for help, he does need me. He will always need me...want my love and attention. Nothing can change that. Not time, distance or all those others trying to replace me. They are not his father, not family. I am. Don't worry Son, I am back, you don't need them anymore. Now let's get you cleaned up._

After dumpimg the charming Mrs. Angela Montenegro-Hodgens off in the middle of nowhere. Agent Hawkins had quite the to do list to carry out before heading in for the night. According to the calculations it would be about two hours before sleepyhead might come to. He definately had to be back before then. He had to pick up some supplies first. Everything was going so well. He was singing quietly to himself ," ...cats in the cradle, and the silver spoon, little boy blue and the man on the moon...", as he opened the mom and pop pharmacys heavy door. His phone chirped a reminder. He touched the phone and held it close.

"Hey! Yeah things are going good. Yeah, yeah I know he's cute.. you sick bastard ..but back off. I promised, no harm and no harm is how it's going to be. You forget that and... don't you threaten me! I'm the one who got your ass out of there. You owe me. Besides once we're gone you can leave the area for good. I would suggest somewhere they don't extridite. They ever figure out your paperwork was doctored and your face will be plastered on the evening news, every playground, petting zoo and school nationwide. I have a job for ya, I'll mail the details. Remember ...cross me and you won't live long enough run away. That's what I thought!" He ended the call. _God I hate working with filth. Oh well, I won't need to worry after he shows up for that final job. Won't he be suprised. _

The ancient drugstore was nearly empty save for the bored elderly couple sitting on an old bench. The shelves were sparsely stocked. The products that were offered had a dingy appearance. He was sure the packaging had probably changed at least twice on that box of detergent since they last stocked. This place was on its last legs losing out to the superstores, grocerystores and shiny new Walgreens on every corner. The only thing keeping it afloat was the slowly dying pool of faithul clients, like the ones on the bench. That meant that the budget for system upgrades and security was non-exisistant.

"Hello, and how can I help you?", the elderly pharmacist greeted him with enthusiam. A new customer.

"Good afternoon, I need these filled. No insurance. I'll be paying cash." Hawkins passed the prescription slips through the windows opening. The old man looked through his bi-focals at the handwriting scrawled across the paper.

"These are some heavy duty antibiotics. And this, this one is a pretty strong narcotic. I'll need to see your some identification." He peered over the black frames eyeing his new customer suspiciuosly.

" No problem." Hawkins said flashing that broad "trust me" smile, sliding the leather wallet to the man, whose eyes widened when he saw the FBI credentials. " I also need some bandages, ...first aid stuff ,which aisle?"

"Oh...of course Agent Hawkins...never had a Federal Agent as customer before..couple of beat cops but... of course aisle four, there. I'll get these filled. " the man looked at the couple, " I'll have yours as soon as the insurance rep calls back. Sorry for the inconvenice. The computer systems acting up, guess its time to upgrade again...its all computers these days..." the man continued mumbling as he went into the back.

Hawkins chuckled to himself as he listened to the man complain. He found everything he needed. And strolled through the store. On a high shelf, full of dust covered puzzles, one box caught his eye. He took down the box looking at it, it was amazing how silimar it was to the set he had as a kid. He carried it along to the counter. The pharmacist was waiting ,white paper bags in hand, eager to ring up the basket full of items. He paused in his tally when he picked up the chess set. He had stocked that particular item what seemed decades ago. The picture of a man and boy playing a match on the lid had faded out to a pinkish brown, he shook his head, people had stopped buying real games when the computer games game out. _Its all about computers these days.._

"Alright, I think that's got it, unless there's anything else I can help you with." He said hopefully.

" No that's it." Handing over a couple of bills, " Overheard you say your computer system was having problems...you didn't have any problems with these?", His hazel eyes were gleaming with satisfation.

" No...everything went straight through without a hitch. Maybe the blasted thing's fixed itself. I don't know. " He grumbled as he made change for the cash. " Okay, there you go, and you have a nice evening."

"Oh, I plan on it, you too." Agent Hawkins grabbed his bags. As he headed out of the store, he smiled and once again began singing "... when you coming home dad..I don't know when...but we'll get together then..you know we'll have a good time then..."

The slam of a door, the sound of shoes thumping down the steep staircase...whistling?...it all seemed far away, muffled at first...but as he became more lucid ,something else was demanding his attention. It was like a whisper, barely felt except in whisps , but the whispers became resounding screams, screams that didn't take a breathe. Soon it was all he could hear. It filled his mind. _Oh god...why did I ...why did I let this happen ...its its its ..oh _ his brain couldn't form cohesive thoughts it had only one thought ..._pain._

The agonizing moans coming from the other side of the panel wall, signaled the waking state of his son. He snatched up the little white bag, digging out the styrofoam container that held the ampules he wanted. He checked the time on his wrist, the old wristwatch actually kept great time, it would be time to make the call soon. Hawkins strolled into the other room.

"Hey there kid, you don't have to wake up on my account." he mocked the beaten man currently trying to push himself up with his right arm.

"Shut uu...ugh! ,Lance wanted to tell him to shut up, go to hell, and a myriad of other things but just attempting sit up sent a new shockwave of pain radiating from the raw ripped flesh of his back through his whole body. He let his body drop back onto the mattress, but too fast..._ahhhh oh god my shoulder! _He lay there trying hard to regain some kind of control over the intensely unpleasant sensations he was experiencing. He made himself focus on something...anything else. His breathing. As the pain had increased so had his respiration, to the degree he thought he might hyperventilate. _Start there...push away the pain just focus on the next breath...slow inhale...now exhale.. better ahh..uh god...Think!... you can do this...now breathe slow...its all there _is. Breathing exercises could only do so much...but it was a start. He managed to calm down enough to think more clearly...beyond his own troubles. _Angela, where is she? She's not here...is she here? He promised he would release her if... I would " be good ", don't try to leave or fight back. I didn't ..._

The older man chuckled to himself, "shut up", he might not fight ,he might not run but he would still run that smartass mouth. _ He just better watch what he says.. _He noticed how silent his captive had become, no moaning. He could hear the methodical deep breathing. On occasion it faltered, it stuttered, it sped up to a pant , then return back to deep inhales and loud exhales through clenched teeth. _Mind over pain? Don't worry I've got something a lot better here. _He checked the time, he opened an app on his smart phone.

"Okay Son..you need to make phone call. Then you can go back to la la land." He held up the syringe. Hawkins sat in the chair at Sweets bedside with the pychologists phone in his hand.

"Remember no warnings ho hints, just see if she is fine and remind her about our deal" he coached as he hit call. He had it on speaker. The room filled with Hodgens loud aggitated voice.

It was difficult to maintain a normal voice, ..to shift his focus to the words he needed to say,.. to not shout out when he heard Angelas voice _He did it she's safe at home, now Micheal is safer too! He kept his promise...so far. Hodgens was mad at him...why...what kiddnapped? oh okay run with it..but she's asking if I'm okay? No! No I'm not okay!...I'm still here!... with him! And everything hurts ...again. Please just tell Booth...I know its a risk..but your safe now!...you can go to the Bureau you'll be safe and they can rescue me! Please help me!_

The pain induced flood of panicked thoughts caused him to lose track of the actual conversation and he had to pause... to calm down, before answering with the proper tone with the correct words.

"Angela...I'm still here.. _of course I'm here and you're there so help me! ..._ I'm still with Agent Hawkins..." and then they were gone, and he was all alone again ...well not completely alone. With the phone call over, that connection to his present life was gone with a tap on his phone. He was here with the monster from his past life._ Maybe they will find...me. I..just want to...go...to..go... _he never arrived at his last thought the drug coursing through his viens dulled his mind as well as the pain.

As good as any ER nurse, the man set about dressing the wounds he inflicted. He wanted him to be ready for a little trip soon.

*** Cat's in the Cradle*** by Harry Chapin and Sandy Chapin


	9. Chapter 9 All In A Days Work

**Thus we have arrived at Chapter 9 : All In A Days Work**

**To the few who read my scribbles. I thank you from the bottom of my dark lil heart. Time for some fluff...sorta.**

*****just a note in the beginning I insinuated Michael was still in the Jeffersonian Daycare. Well, rewind, erase that, he was at his independent preschool, nearby. ;-) thanks.

**Oh and just so we're all clear , I DO NOT OWN Bones , Kathy Reiches and fox do.**

"Cam!" The toddlers high pitched squeal of joy echoed across the nearly empty Jeffersonian lab as he barreled into the surprised womans legs delivering a big hug. Looking up at her grinning, a sticky, grape colored spot on his cheek that was dangerously close to the off white skirt of her dress, the toddler said, "Hiii!"

"Well hellooo...Michael...", Camille smiled uncomfortably , placing a hand on a head full of ginger curls as she scanned the scene for his parents. "Now, where's your Mommy and Daddy ? Hmm?"

"Michael!" Hodgens scolded, he ran forward smiling apologeticly to his boss.

" Good Morning Dr. Sayroyan ...sorry I was meaning to call..." He began as he pulled his son to him, dropping to his knee, " Michael you shouldn't have run off like that, you have to stay with Mom or Dad okay? ". The boy stared at the top of his shoe as he kicked at the floor before finally nodding, "Oookayyy."

"Like I was about to say,...I was meaning to call you. The reason Angela wasn't here yesterday...Cam she was mugged and kidnapped then left in the middle of nowhere. She says she's fine...won't go to the police. She had nightmares last night, she's afraid to let Michael out of her sight for more than a few minutes. I'm telling you there's more to the story she just won't tell. Oh and there's this..." he withdrew a large ziploc bag, wadded inside was a yellow bundle. He handed the bag to a stunned Cam. "It's the dress she was wearing.." he looked around checking for his wife not seeing her he continued. "..there is blood all over it. She said it belongs to one of her abducters so..."

"So you want me to run it for DNA? And without an official crime report what do you intend to do with the information... hunt them down yourself? And, I take it ,since you're talking so low, Angela doesn't know you are doing this. I don't know Jack."

The mans blue eyes pleaded with her "C'mon Cam this is for Angela,.. I would consider it a huge personal favor...please?"

Cam took the bag, " Okay. Stop. But we have two official cases still ongoing so it may take a day or two to get the results."

"Really?..Com'on..., " Hodgens started to protest but the stern look and cross-armed stance his boss adopted let him know it was the best she was going to be able to do and he needed to be thankful. So he shut up. Cam ,suddenly, put her hands behind her back. She was looking past Hodgins at Angela striding towards the group. Cam noticed the dark circles under her eyes, their red bloodshot appearance, and the way her lids seemed to only want to open halfway. Instead of her usual colorful flouncey attire she had on, some light grey sweatpants, a lightweight pink tunic tank accented with a circle scarf that was grey with pink centered daisies, and white Keds sneakers. An unusually causal look for someone who loved to dress up. What disturbed Camille most was what the scarf and extra makeup were trying to hide. Brusies. All along her jawline and down her neck. There were also neatly wrapped bandages around her wrists. _Oh my God ,Angela what happened to you? _

"Angela! Are you alright? Dr. Hodgens told me what happened. Don't you think you should go to the police?...Not to pry, but they have your purse, your private information, what if they came back? "_That's right Camille scare your friend into making a report. Its for her own good, right? _Cams features radiated genuine concern.

"No..no they won't be back...I seriously believe it was just teens acting out. I'm fine. Really, but thanks for your concern Cam. I just want to get back to normal. I have some work to catch up on and..oh yeah, Michael is going to spend the morning with me. I promise he will be good and stay in my office. That's fine...right?" Angela rambled wearily. Then, not waiting for a reply, took Micheal by the hand and headed for her office.

"Uh...sure." was Cams only reply. She looked at Hodgens, " Wow, I see what you mean. Look, I will see how fast I can push the results. But, if Angela needs to take time off ..you know she can. She seems traumatized, maybe she should talk to Sweets, he is not working the case so he probably has time free..."

Hodgens was shaking his head, " Yeeah that's not happening. He's off assisting some Agent Hawkins. Won't be back for a couple of days."

"Agent Hawkins? I'm not familiar with that name...is he new?" , Cam wondered.

"No. Angela said she met him before she left Sweets in the parking garage. She said he was from the Dallas office, he wanted Sweets help with an interview. That's it. As for taking a day off I tried... but she was adamant she had something important she needed to work on. You know how stubborn she can be." He sighed in aggravation. "Well I've got a lot to do too. Hey..Cam..thanks for understanding about Michael. Talk to you later." ran off in the direction of his bug room.

"Your welcome.." called to the mans back as he disappeared. She looked at the parcel in her hands. _Ok let's get this started._ She turned and went into her autopsy room. Approached a workstation, donned the proper lab attire then opened the bag. She removed the pale yellow garment. Layed it out on the tray. She looked at the pattern of dried brown blood splatter, the flecks,the fine dots and the occasional large blotch. There was definately a directionality to the fine streaks. _This isn't from a bloody nose or lip. This is cast off from a weapon. Angela what the hell happened?_ Using scissors she snipped small sections of the most saturated areas, she took several samples _their could be multiple victims_, then placed them in test tubes. When she finished starting the process, she placed the dress in an official looking evidence bag, labled it then sealed it. _Just in case this becomes official._ With nothing more to do but wait for the next step, Dr Sayroyan moved back to her newest victim. She reviewed her findings to this point. The body found in the mud covered basement was that of fourteen year old Daniel McKay, according to dental records. The agressive missing child campaign by his adoptive parents had made it rather easy to find an identification just using basic statistics. Cam pulled up the pictures that were on flyers all across the Maryland suburb from which Daniel had gone missing. The most recent photo was a yearbook pose. His hair was chestnut brown in a shag cut, popular with teen boy these days, not quite as long as it was before he died. There were no piercings in his ear or eyebrow. In fact from what she had learned from a brief disscussion with the McKays Daniel was definately not into the goth rock scene at all. He liked pop and rap. No issues just a typical teenage boy. He had gone missing two weeks prior to the time of death, meaning he was held captive. She didn't have to imagine the horrors he suffered over that time period. Injuries taken straight out of the same playbook Brian Forresters killer had used _One that leads right back to Sweets. _There were all the same injuries with some important additions. Both arms had breaks, not just the one,and a broken femur this time. There was damage to the hyoid bone as well as to the cartilidge of the throat suggesting strangulation. Even worse, was the damage to the rib cage indicative of CPR resuscitation. He had been choked out and revived at least once, maybe twice. There was evidence of both alcohol and flunitrazepam in his system. Roofied and drunk maybe he wasn't aware of all the pain being inflicted on him, though she doubted it. The last two differences were the hardest. There was evidence of sexual assault. Brian Forrester had no signs of abuse, decomp could have played a role in hiding the evidence. The last difference were the lascerations that had opened Daniels veins allowing him to bleed out slowly on the dark damp basement floor. The wounds were not self inflicted. Exsanguination was the final cause of death. _This is one sick bastard! Now I have to explain all this to the team. Maybe its best Sweets isn't around for this._ She closed the screen, and moved to the lab equipment that was beeping for her attention. Time to start the next step in the genetic testing.

Angela got Michael settled in playing happily with the glut of toys and books she had brought to keep him entertained for the few hours she hoped it would take to begin the search for the old victorian. She entered an estimated time it could have taken to make it from the Hoover building to the house. With the many turns and the constant conversation she wondered how accurate her guess was but it was all she had to go on. She eliminated newer neighborhoods. Of course in a place as historic as the DC area that didn't narrow it as much as she hoped. Then Angela figured in style, condemed, for sale and any other variables she could think of. She left the Angelatron to run the search hidden in the background, while official case work filled the screen._They can't know what I'm doing, not yet _ She sat down to play monster trucks with Michael on the floor. She knew the work would go slower trying to entertain a four year old, but she just couldn't bring herself to leave him at preschool that morning. And she didn't want to let down Sweets either. She needed the computing might the Angelatron afforded her. Plus, she needed to do some work on the Forrester case. She checked the time. Cam had asked everyone to meet in Angelas office in another half hour, to get caught up on where both cases stood. Luckily, Jack had caught her up to speed on the boy found in the basement. _How many had to die because of this sicko? _She looked up from the make believe Monster truck rally being enacted by her son to see a familiar face at her door.

"Angela? I am glad to see you. Are you alright ? Booth told me what happened." Brennen edged closer to the pair, uncertain how to properly demonstrate the mix of concern and relief she was feeling. Awkwardly she joined them on the floor reaching over to squeeze Angelas hand while simultaneously greeting Michael and accepting the red fire truck he offered her. Bren felt Angelas other hand atop hers, she turned to her, ocean eyes still full of worry.

"How are you doing? From what I was told, your experience was very harrowing." her eyes surveyed the bruises and bandages. "Are you positive not filing a police report is wise, what if they become emboldened enough to escalate the violence in their crimes. There is all likely hood they will try something like this again. I'm sure Booth can help make the process as unpleasant as possible."

Angela gently patted Brens hand, " Bren trust me on this one, those kids are no real threat to anyone okay...you know how good I am at reading people_ ,Yeah like how well you read Hawkins or Sweets ,real good Angela, ... _well I'm positive this is the best course of action for me. But thanks Sweetie, thank you for worrying about me." Full of emotion , Angela pulled her bestfriend in for a quick hug.

Brennen returned the gesture, just happy to still have her friend , safe and sound. Before the women unlocked arms, they were suddenly tackled into an exubrently affectionate group hug with one Michael Vincent Hodgens. The trio fell apart, when Bren grabbed the toddler, pulled him onto her lap tickling him furiously. After much giggling and many stuttering half-hearted "Stops!", Brennen let the boy tumble onto the floor, making his "escape". Red faced and panting hard, the grinning child glanced back at the anthropologist, "...Do it agin!..." Brennen laughed as she gave her friend a sideways glance, she was happy to see the amused smile now playing across her once troubled features.

" I am sorry Michael, I have to return to work now..." Bren said reaching out to tousle his curly locks as she worked her way up from the floor. "...but prehaps you and your mother could join Christine and I at the park later?", she looked hopefully at Ange for confirmation of the proposed playdate. At first the artist seemed truly perlexed by the suggestion but then hearing her sons shouts of approval said, " That sounds like a great idea, Sweetie."

"What's going on in here! From all the laughing and giggling it sounds like a good time...can I play too? ", Jack Hodgens entered the room smiling about the scene he had silently witnessed from just outside the door.

"Daddyyy!" Michael ran into his fathers open arms, a die-cast Gravedigger clutched in one fist and a non-descript generic Hot Wheel car in there other.

" You can can play wif this one!" he said offering the man holding him the small orange sedan.

"Great buddy! But ,hey, actually, its time for you to go visit with Mrs. Holly at the daycare for a bit. You remember where you went before preschool?" Hodgens informed the boy now wriggling to be let down. Once on the floor, Michaels arms crossed tightly over his grape jelly stained Scooby Doo tee, with knitted brows and a pouting frown he stomped his foot on the floor.

" I don wanna go there! That's for baabbieees! Imma big boy now!" He stomped his foot once more for emphasis.

Kneeling on one knee in an effort to be closer to eye level with his obstinate son, Jack placed his hands gently on Michaels shoulders. "Yes, you are definately a big boy now. And that's whyy.. Mrs Holly hoped you would come help her with the little kids. She needs a big boy like you to help her...its almost snack time. I bet there's an extra cookie in it for her big helper, what do you say? Think you can do it?"

After some thought the child agreed and left with his father to " help" with the " babies" at the Jeffersonians daycare.

By the time Hodgins returned from delivering Mrs. Hollys "helper", everyone had assembled in Angelas workroom. As he entered he noticed Agent Booth was standing off in a corner his phone to his ear, a serious expression on his face. But then looking around, all the rooms occuppants wore somber masks.

"Okay...everyone is here. Let's get started." , Cam stood in front of her team. She made eye contact with a still "phone engaged" Booth, who waved for her to go ahead and begin.

"Before we go any further its important we are all on the same page from here on out. Angela, ..there have been some aspects of the case we, Booth, Brennen and myself have been waiting to share until we were sure...", the forensic pathologist looked at the couples staring faces, Hodgens seemed confused, but Angela just seemed distracted, _Okay Camille just get it out already _"...but at this point there is no doubt there is a connection. Based on her knowledge of our own Doctor Sweets childhood Doctor Brennen noticed similarities between injuries he received while in the home of an abusive foster home and those of Brian Forrester. I don't think I have to point out the physical characteristics both Brian Forrester and Daniel McKay share with Sweets, brown eyes and curly brown hair. Then there is the foster care and adoption link. When Booth, with Sweets permission, attempted to research details of Dr. Sweets childhood, it was discovered that someone...possibly Pelant has systematically destroyed or altered most of his childhood records. In order to make a complete comparison Brennen and I examined him...the injuries matched.

" Wait.. hold on here. Your telling me that Sweets...our Sweets... was beaten the same as Brian Forrester and Daniel McKay, by his foster parents? That's not possible..I mean he's never said anything." ,Hodgens was blown away with shock. _Wow Its like I don't know anything about the guy...I mean he's so normal. Damn! Wait.. _ " Dr. Brennen how did you know?"

Brennen looked to Booth who had finished the call and joined them. Since it was a secret both had kept through the years she felt, irrationally, like telling others without her partners support would be wrong somehow. When their eyes met the message, " go ahead Bones tell them" was loud and clear in her mind. She cleared her throat.

" It was a few years ago, when we worked on the case with the deathmetal band member that was hung on that cross. Doctor Sweets accompanied me to a concert...he was dressed in..in the same make-up and ripped attire as the fans associated with the deathmetal sub-culture...anyway, when the lead singer unwittedly slit his own throat with a real knife ...we jumped on stage to give emergency first aid...I needed a compress and ripped off Sweets shirt..to use..while he held it over the mans injury I saw the scars from where he had been whipped as a child...I told Booth and Gorden Wyatt...later we spoke to Sweets who explained it was his foster father." Seemly exhausted by the revealation Brennen took a seat beside Angela who appeared to be on the verge of tears.

"So, you three have known all this time.." ,Hodgens began with a hint of anger in his voice

" No. No Doctor Hodgens, I was only made aware of this at the start of the Forrester case, when it became necessary to examine for scars. If this case had never come up, then I'm sure Doctor Brennen and Agent Booth would have continued to honor Sweets wish for privacy. Which we three continued to maintain until we were sure. But unfortunately, someone is killing boys based on Sweets childhood traumas. So its time for everyone to know everything. And on that note...there is some information that I promised Lance I would not divulge unless it became germaine to our case. It wasn't with Brian but now... with Daniel McKay...", as the moment of truth neared Cam remembered how upset Lance had become when he thought just Booth and Brennen were going to find out about his secret, now Angela and Hodgens too! _I'm sorry Sweets_

" During my examination I found scars..very faint scars..", at this point she had Booth and Brennens complete attention, "...along the inside of his forearms, Sweets attempted suicide when he was in highschool, he didn't tell me any details just that he regretted it..." the words tumbled out quickly, like ripping off a band-aid to lessen the sting.

"You have got to be kidding me!", Booths exasperated disbelief was mixed with anger. He stepped away from the table he had been leaning against, uncrossing his arms and throwing his hands up, he nearly dropped the phone still clutched in his right hand.

"Booth! Calm down...", Bones tried to reach out to her increasingly irrate spouse. But, he avoided her touch, and began pacing as he talked.

"No. Bones, you just heard Cam, he tried to kill himself! Hell, from the sounds of it, he damn near succeeded...and he never tells us about it? Us! Bones. We were telling him about our pasts for years...letting him dig into our heads. And you know...you know how I opened up about things I didn't want to admit to!" Booth was raging. Everyones eyes were on him, everyone except Angela who had her head buried in her hands. Bones stepped forward reaching out again to her husband.

"Booth, I understand...", her eyes seemed to search for the right words to help her partner calm down, but wasn't finding them. She lay her hand upon his shoulder. He didn't pull away.

"Do you?", Booths rage had lost much of its steam, he was just mad now, " And after what I told him.. you'd think...I don't know. That he trusted us more! Instead it takes a muder case and some destroyed files to finally learn what he went through!... ", his voice was beginning to rise again.

Cam watched in stunned silence as the drama unfolded in front of her. She had more, probably worse information to relate but didn't know how, or if she should interrupt the agent who was obviously feeling very hurt. She looked to Dr. Hodgens who was watching the couples exchange in wide eyed wonder. She needed to bring this meeting back on point.

"Um..ahem!" She cleared her throat loudly.,"Look I understand we all have mixed feelings about this.." she said loudly, locking Booth with an understanding gaze." But there's more..there's something else."

"What! What Camille! What else do you have to tell us?, Booth lashed out at "the messenger". But seeing the wounded expression that resulted, he immediately regretted his behavior. He turned to face Bones and Cam. "I'm sorry..it's just ..let's let's just move on." He resumed his position against the table, only this time Brennen was by his side. Hodgens had noticed his wifes withdrawn posture and moved to her side. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders supportively. She looked up briefly, acknowledging the gesture, but resumed her pose. Camille took their collective silence and tired glares as her que.

"Brian Forrester showed no signs of sexual assualt, but with Daniel McKay..." she took a deep breath to steady her self, "Daniel McKay was raped. Unfortunately, there was nothing traceable...no DNA. " she waited for their reactions. All she got was stunned silence, until Angela ran from the room bawling. Hodgens jumped to his feet in pursuit, but was stopped by Brennen who hurried to catch up with her friend. By the time Brennen opened the ladies room she could hear the wretching sound of someone who couldn't stomach the information they had just been fed.

" Angela? I came to check on you.", announcing herself gently, she placed her hand on the cold, hard surface of the stall door. It wasn't locked and swung open, revealing a very pale, Angela, sitting on the tile floor, back against the dividing wall, knees up, head buried in her arms, crying and talking to herself. It was a whispery frantic fast paced conversation. _I can't do this anymore...I have to do something..but its not time..not yet..but what if? If he...oh god, he might...what do I do?..what do I do?.. _and on it went. Brennen knelt down in front of her distraught friend hoping to comfort her somehow.

"Ange, Angela what? What is it that you can't do anymore? ", Angelas head whipped up, _Oh no she just heard all that? _ she stopped talking. She looked at Bren through bleary eyes, as if she was waking from a deep sleep and wasn't sure what was going on.

"Bren? Wha..what are you talking about? I ...Oh, I just felt sick all of a sudden and...I feel better now..", she started to get up. _I've gotta get out of here _But Brennen didn't move out of her way.

"Angela, you were saying there was something you couldn't do and something about time. What's wrong, does it have something to do with your experience yesterday? Its been such a difficult day...for everyone. I can imagine how difficult it is for you having to deal with all this and your own attack. Maybe you really should take the rest of the day off. Get some rest. After all you have been through. No one would hold it against you if you took a few days off to recoup."

Angelas thoughts raced quickly to the one person who most definately would hold it against her, and he'd be right to do so. _No I'm stronger than this, I can figure this out. He needs me to find him._

"No! I mean not..today. I need to finish up something then, I'll take tommorrow off. Okay? I promise." Placated somewhat, by her friends promise, Brennen helped the shaken woman to her feet. They almost bumped into Cam who had decided she needed to check on them.

"Angela? Are you okay?", her eyes were filled with concern.

" Yeah, it all just hit me wrong..you know? Look, Cam, I've got a few things to finish, then I'm gonna call it a day. And I think I will take a day off ...to clear my mind, "

" Of course, I'm glad to hear that. Oh, Dr. Brennen, Booth said he wanted to talk to you, he's in your office" ,Brennen looked back at Angela still worried over her.

" It's okay Sweetie, I'm fine now, go on to Booth. Oh and thanks." ,She tried to muster up a half hearted smile to reassure Bren.

Brennen left unsure Angela was anywhere near "okay". She still wondered about the meaning behind those panicked whispers. She continued this line of thought all the way to her office where she found Booth sitting on her couch. He was just finishing a call, and tossed the phone on the coffeetable. She shut the door, then sat down beside him. He was still quite tense, she could tell by how tight his jaw was set and the distant look in his eyes. She remained quite allowing him to think.

" You know Bones, I'm sorry for blowing up in there...for snapping at you and Cam. I get.. that Sweets doesn't like dredging up his childhood... especially if...what happened to Daniel McKay ...but before that, the suicide attempt that was a punch to the gut, ya know? I told him that if it wasn't for Pops...I wouldn't be here. That took all lot for me to admit. In all this time he couldn't say, "Hey I've been there?.." or something.. I mean he took it further then I did ,but still..", Booth ran his hands over his face sighing. " I've been sitting thinking about it... he never volunteers any information until he has to..until its important...Its like he just doesn't trust us. When he left those few months he didn't keep in touch with anyone..why? I had Angela track him down... which wasn't easy since we were all still avoiding Pelants snooping. He even moved during that time...now this mess ... and he's AWOL again!"

"I do understand how you must feel Booth, you revealed a piece of yourself and feel betrayed. But, obviously these very truamatic episodes in Sweets past are still troubling to him. Booth, what if he was ...abused like Daniel McKay? After he returns , prehaps, we should talk to him about everything. You seem to need answers. And he isn't AWOL, he is asissting a fellow agent, correct? Hawkins?" Bones was rubbing Booths back and shoulders. She could feel the muscles beneath her hand relaxing.

"Yeah..Agent Thomas Hawkins...I was on the phone with his superior in Dallas when the meeting started. Everything checked out.. but it still pisses me off the guy didn't even introduce himself before taking off with my profiler. I would have appreciated the heads up. But see that goes right back to what I'm saying ...Sweets called his superior about it..but not me!? " _ Hell no, I found out from the bug guy. _Booth felt the ire rising again. He straightened himself up, got his phone and turned to face his wife. "Believe me when Sweets gets back we're gonna have a long talk. Right now, I have to return to the office ..Agent Shaw was looking into that homeplace of Coras..I want to see what she's found.", they both stood as he prepared to leave. "I'll call." He pulled her into a hard brief kiss. Then left. Brennen watched him leave feeling drained by the emotional toll the day had taken on everyone._ Interesting how much emotional turmoil this is causing our little team...well except for the one at the center of it all. At least will have a few days repreive before he has to face talking to Booth. He was so upset.. hope Sweets enjoys the next couple of days away. _

**Okay so maybe not so fluffy...but there was tickling ,that's fluffy right?**

**Sorry it wasn't the best. Please take a moment to review good or bad matters not.**


	10. Chapter 10 The Morning After

**Chapter: 10 The Morning After**

**Please in the name of all that is holy & unholy.. review, if nothing else just say "here" kinda like a roll call... you will have my undying gratitude. Well, until ..I die..hhhm**

**"Pay attention boy, I'm cuttin' but you ain't bleedin" Foghorn Leghorn**

**Disclaimer " I say ,pay attention to me boy! I do not own Foghorn Leghorn, Barnyard Dawg,or Loony Toons... Warner Brothers does!"**

**Disclaimer "I don't own Bones!" She screamed, her eyes filling with tears. **

**It was the smell of hickory smoked goodness and the aroma of brewing coffee that first roused him from blissful sleep. He crawled out from under the still inviting warmth of the fuzzy blue blanket and slid on his stomach down the side of the bed until small toes touched the chill of the wood floor. Normally, he would have just jumped down but he had a mission in mind. Quietly, he tiptoed down the hall, he peeped around the kitchen doorway at the figure busily preparing breakfast. Up on the round kitchen table set his objective. He waited until he was sure she was completely engrossed in cracking the eggs before sneaking in and stealthily snatching the box off the table. Away he ran like a thief in the night hugging his looted cereal box tightly against the dinosaur on his pajama top. Plopping down on the braided area rug, he flipped on the tv, making sure the volume wasn't too loud. Soon he was enjoying handfuls of fruity circles. With the box in his lap he separated each enticing o by color, in his small hand, he always saved the red ones for last. Meanwhile the screen was aglow with shifting images of Saturday mornings' cartoon lineup. Crunching a mouthful of cereal and lost in the world of Loony Toons ,he didn't even notice the person creeping up behind him. **

**"Gotcha!" A pair of strong arms wrapped around him scooping him up into the air, hands tickling his sides. Fruit loops showered the floor as the giggling child begged, weakly ,to be put down. Instead, the the pair collasped onto the couch, laughing. Worn out, cheeks flushed pink he leaned back against his "attackers" chest, resting a halo of chestnut curls just under the mans chin and resumed watching Foghorn Leghorn play a trick on Backyard Dawg. Just as he got the next handful of loops sorted and ready to enjoy, Daddys' hand snatched them away, and was soon munching loudly. "Hey! Those were mine!" The youngster protested, feigning anger. **

**" What are you talking about? I say..What's it all about boy, elucidate!" Daddy said in his best Foghorn imitation. "Yo..you know wha..t hehehe" he was giggling again as dexterous digits dug into his ticklish sides.**

**"Think you've had enough of those.", man said chuckling taking the box away, " Mamas probably got breakfast ready... let's go eat." Once again Lance felt himself carried away in his Daddys arms. He looked up at the big smile and warm eyes, not brown like his or blue like Mama ..different, he hugged his Daddys neck whispering quietly " I love yo...**

Sweets awoke with a start, the dream still so real he could still smell bacon..and coffee. _I do smell coffee and bacon. _With each mind clearing breath he was assaulted by the odor of food. He could hear the gurggling of a percolator and the scrapeing in a pan of someone cooking. There was only one someone. And he was just out of sight in the other side of the basement apartment. Lance pushed aside the stupid dream and the way it made his stomach twist into knots. The dull ache in his shoulder reminded him to move slowly as he pushed himself up with his right arm. That's when he noticed the way his left arm was now snuggly bound in a sling and his shoulder was wrapped in bandaging. Immobilized the shoulder pain was greatly decreased. He became aware too of bandages covering his pain was still there, but he would manage. He had virtually no recollection of being bandaged up. _The last thing I remember was talking to Angela. Angela's safe...right?..yes.. _ He turned his body into an upright sitting position ,now, it was his knee, still swollen and sore, that demanded his consideration. He slid his left leg off the bed, flinching at the cold, rough feel of the concrete on his barefoot. Streaching out his right hand to support his bum knee, he gingerly moved the stiff limb off the mattress to join the other. He pushed through the discomfort and was now sitting up on the edge of the bed. Both feet flat on the the frigid floor. It was a bittersweet accomplishment, he hadn't eaten or had anything to drink for..._two days? What was the last thing I ate...half a bagel? Coffee.. _ so long his stomach was beginning to rebel against even the thought of food, just out of spite. He had a headache and the inside of his mouth felt like he had been chewing cotton. He buried his forehead in his hand squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a wave of nausea and lightheadedness crash over him. He had to swallow hard, to fight the sick feeling about to over take him. _Don't throw up, I do not want to throw up. _After several deep breaths and a few touch and go moments the feeling finally abated, for now. He scanned his surroundings, not much had changed, except thankfully there was an unoccupied wingback chair in the corner. The blood...well most of it had been cleaned up. He tried to determine his next move. He wasn't physically bound in any way, _maybe I could use something as a weapon...make it up the stairs. Right, with this knee and shoulder you're not getting anywhere fast. Besides he still has help..someone who has access to Michael and probably the others too. Remember the deal... Stay put, you don't know what might happen ...how it all works...yet. _He stared at the narrow staircase that led up and out of this place. His prison. He heard the preoccupied movements of his captor. _ But, I really need to get out of here...if they don't find me...he's so unstable ... arrgh! I just gotta get out of here! Angela will tell Booth where...right? Use that big assed computer..pin point the house..it's what she does. But if she won't then...I should get up.. _His scattered thoughts drove him to stand up, putting as much weight on his left leg as possible. He made it up, only to bring back the unrelenting queasiness. Suddenly he felt like he was spinning on a top, afraid he might crash he quickly sat back down. .._I've got to drink and eat... I'm not going anywhere like this. _While he tried to recoup from his standing folly, eyes closed head down, he heard the scrape of the heavy oak chair dragging across the floor. Lance opened his eyes to find both the chair and the man were in front of him. The seat of the chair was facing him. He looked on as a paper plate with scrambled eggs, bacon, and small bowl of mixed fruit was set on the seat before him, along with a solo cup with...milk. _No coffee? _

"Com'on eat up. You've got to be starving. Here." He tossed a white plastic spork down on the plate.

_Paper or plastic..nothing to useful there..._ Lance continued to glare at the plate of delicious looking food as if by eating, it meant he was giving another concession to his tormentor. But wanted to eat, he needed to. So he picked up the fork/spoon combination and dug into the eggs. Warm, light and just enough seasoning, they were great... though he loathed to admit it. He knew he should eat slower, his empty stomach should be eased back into service , but it was good and he had been ravenous. Only after all the eggs and half of the bacon were gone did he truly slow down. He kept his head down focused on the consumption of breakfast and avoiding eye contact with **him**. After a gulp of milk he set to work on the fruit. Halfway through he heard **him** chuckling. _What's so funny? And that stupid laugh. _Lance stopped eating. "What?"

" You still do that thing...that sorting thing with your food." He was leaning against the dividing wall, sipping coffee from a small mug.

The young man looked down at the plastic container ... sure enough each fruit type was shoved into its own section of the small bowl. He had done it without any conscious thought. _Do I always do that? _

"Eat everything, and here take these." he placed two large white capsules on the plate. "We need to get going as soon as the "bus" gets here."

"What do you mean... going?" _We can't be going anywhere..I need to be here when they come._ Sweets tried not to let the bitter disappointment show. He snatched the pills and swallowed them then finished off the milk. "Where are.. _you taking me.._ we going? "

"That...", Hawkins said grinning, as he leaned down to pick up the empty containers. "..is for me to know and you to find out." He tossed the trash in a clear plastic bag, which contained Sweets torn and bloody suit. He slipped out of the room. When he returned he had his phone.

" Now let's see..." Hawkins sat down beside Sweets. " oh here we go. Now watch this."

The pyschologist watched the small screen fill with action. Only this time it wasn't Michael Vincent who was playing happily on a slide. It was the little girl with golden curls and ocean blue eyes like her mother. Christine was playing at a distance not so far that she couldn't see the person with the camera waving, they must have waved...else why would the friendly innocent child be waving back.

Sweets heart sank, _of course Angela would be keeping Michael close, so they logically moved in a new direction._ Without Booth knowing what was going on or the danger their child was in, Christine would go unprotected from whomever this other guy is.

"I think you understand what this means...our deal still stands. My friend here, wave to Lance, [ a hand moves back and forth across the screen] will not harm a hair on that pretty lil' head as long as you don't give him a reason to. And believe me, it can get ugly when he gets carried away. So no trying to run off. Cooperate. I've been planning this trip for a long time..and nothing is going to stop it from happening.", Hawkins voice was full of certainty. "Hell, we'll even get to re-live some of the good ol' times. We had some fun didn't we? ",he said giving Sweets good knee a hard slap as he got up and walked into the other room.

_What the hell does he mean .."good ol' times"? ...whose fun __**his**__? Cause that definitely wasn't fun for me... why couldn't he just forget I ever existed!...why did he ever find me at all!...wait, wait, wait they will be expecting me back to work right?...and when I don't show up Booth will know something is up...then..then he will have to look for me, right? ...and I wouldn't have broken the deal ...yeah, yeah thats it and Angela.. she will tell them everything then, about __**him **__soo they can find me. I just need to be good for a couple more days, then they'll know ..they will take precautions..then screw "the deal"!...screw __**him!**__... I hate __**him! **__... _ as ever darkening thoughts raged in his pounding head...he was oblivious to his surroundings...his heart rate increased right along with his respiration. He was shakily rocking, in rythym with his rapid fire gasps of air. _They have to look for me..they have to...__**He **__will have her killed. __** He's **__a monster!...crazy, hateful monster...Fun? What fun?.. broken bones aren't fun!...an..and..being beat by that godforsaken whip... tha..thats not fun!... being...being... _the thoughts gave way to silence as he finally blackedout, falling back on the bed. The silent spectator in the shadows, just smirked and shook his head before continuing his preparations for the roadtrip.


	11. Chapter 11 B&B And The Crazy Cat Lady

**Chapter 11: B&B Meet the Crazy Cat Lady**

**And so my intrepid readers we arrive here..thank you for sticking with this tale.**

Special thanks to **asc12 **and **sldlovespandf15 **your reviews make my day. And your own stories inspire. I love reviews. So please **R&R**

**I do not own Bones, there I said it...happy now?**

Agent Booth eased the sleek black suv onto the river gravel covered driveway that ran beside the large sage green craftsman style home. The large yard was shaded by the canopy of three ancient oaks. As Bones exited the vehicle she was impressed by how beautifully maintained the home was. The pair made their way up the winding gravel pathway, Bones noticed there were brightly colored mosaic stepping stones haphazardly embedded throughout the path. When they reached the steps Brennen was surprised to see the colorful kaleidiscope of broken glass and ceramic shards continued up the face of each riser. The crafty nature of the added details suited the style of home. Booth and Bones climbed up the steps onto a wide porch. Solid, thick columns rested on wide bases faced with the muted greys and beiges of river washed stone. The porch was furnished with white wicker patio chairs, a small round table and at the end a large wicker swing. All the seating was filled with cushy pillows of various bright hues, patterns and shapes. Filling in any remaining space were planters overflowing with vibrant pink and purple petunias. Fragrant blossoms and colorful foilage filled small containersand numerous hanging baskets. Planter boxes dotted the white railing. It was a riot of color and scent. Booth approached the front door. He didn't see a doorbell so reached to open the sturdy wood framed screen door only to find it latched. Shrugging, Booth rapped the screendoors frame with his fist causing it to slam against the doorjam, producing a loud banging sound. As he began to bang the door again, he felt Bones nudge his arm. She was pointing at a sculpted relief of a lions head made of brass, on the wall parallel to the doorknob. The polished metal lions mouth was frozen open in a fierce roar. Inside the mouth was a round button lit by an orange glow. Booth looked at Bones, then shoved his index finger into the lions mouth, Booth half expected a mighty roar but was slightly letdown upon hearing the chimes of a regular doorbell. He smashed the button again. Before he could gag the bronze beast thrice, Bones stopped him, she could here a womans voice calling from inside.

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Just hold hold your horses!" Followed by what may have been muttered curses. A minute later an woman swung open the front door. She was not the little old lady Booth had pictured in his mind, when Agent Shaw text him the name and address of the sixty-two year old neighbor of Jason Andrews. Ms. Diana Rose was nearly the same height as Booth, with fading red hair pulled into a loose bun and a lot of artzy jewelry. She countered the agents surprised look with one of pure annoyance.

"Was all that banging necessary? And that damn doorbell ,once would have sufficed." Diana chastised him as her goldflecked green eyes flitted from Booth to Brennen, sizing them up. Always wary of strangers showing up on her doorstep, Diana stood behind the screendoor and made no offer to open it just yet.

"Ms. Diana Rose? I'm Special Agent Booth, this is my partner Dr. Temperance Brennen of the Jeffersonion, we would like to speak to you about your ex-neighbor, Jason Andrews. If we could just step inside..." Booth noticed how she averted her gaze thoughtfully at the mention of Andrews, but then quickly resumed staring intently as he spoke. When he finished there was no move on her part to unlock the screen door. Instead she glanced over her shoulder back into the house, then back to them, wrestling with which action to take. _She really wasn't gonna make them have this conversation through the screen door, that's too much like confession._

"Actually, I think it best I join you out on the porch...fewer distractions." As the words left her lips, she looked down at her feet. Three very large felines were jockeying for position nearest the doors opening. The winner of the shoving match was an enormous orange tabby tomcat. He was mewing plantively now and pawing at the door. Diana suddenly bent down and clapped her hands loudly. Clap!Clap! Frightend by the noise, two of the beasts fled the scene. Completely unperturbed the huge tabby continued begging for his freedom as he dug a clawy toe through the gap between the door and floor.

Bones had not seen the cats slink up to the door, but seeing how they acted understood the womans hesitance to open the door lest she let loose one of her pets. Especially the orange tabby, he seemed particularly eager to escape. Bones was against confinment of wild animals. It was cruel to remove them from their natural habitat. But with domestic pets it was best. She had never actually had a pet, though she believed she would have enjoyed caring for the german shepard Ripley if he had not been the murder weapon in a mans slaying and thus put down. He had been a good dutiful dog. Looking into those trusting brown eyes, sweet eyes, Brennen had wanted to make a commitment to the dog and been denied. That had been the last time she contemplated having a pet. Bones watched the tabby, then as if feeling her gaze touching him, he locked his golden yellow orbs with her big blues, and with ears flattend on top of his head, hissed with fang baring dramatics. Brennen scowled back. It ocurred to her, maybe she was what some referred to as a " dog person" and that was why the cat reacted in such a rude manner. Although she knew it had more to do with the cats territorial nature and not any special sensitivity to her "inner self". Nonetheless, the cat was still glowering at her with cold yellow eyes, definately nothing trusting or sweet there.

"Oh no.. Azazul you're not going out..." moving swiftly Diana Rose scooped the big tom cat up in one arm, grabbed the house door by its knob, gently tossed the cat back into the recesses of the house, then pulled the door shut behind her, as she unlatched the screen door. Her very practiced exit over Diana now stood beside Bones. "Wouldn't want the doctor here attacked by the big bad kitties now would we?" she gave a soft chuckle as she led the way to the furniture. She chose the swing and sat down.

" I can assure you I am not afraid of felines. Your pet was simply making a territorial display since we are strangers." Brennen stated as she manuvered into the chair nearest the frontroom window, while her partner was endevoring to make space in the other chair with its many pillows. In the end he was perched uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, literally.

"Ms. Rose. How well did you know Jason Andrews?" Booth began his interview.

"I knew him and his family my entire life. Why? Has something happened. He should still be locked up...I haven't received notice of his release." she was obviously worried at the prospect of Jason Andrews release from prison.

"Why would you expect notification ?", Bones asked

"Well last time I saw Jason he made serious threats against my life as well as others. The lawyers, the Finnleys, even his own brother. It was at a hearing to sever all parental rights so that boy of his, Lance could be adopted by the Finnleys. We were all assured we would get notification of parole hearings or release dates. Has he been let out?"

"No. Ms. Rose, he is actually at a prison medical facility. He had a severe seizure and is unable to care for himself or communicate. And it seems that the case information has been corrupted or lost...Did you say sever parental rights? But Lance was placed there by the foster care system. Jason Andrews was his foster parent." Booth and Bones shared confused looks.

Diana leaned forward looking at the pair in front of her. The fact that they leaned closer to each other in silent support hadn't escaped her notice. "That boy did come from the system, but he was Jason Andrews biological son. The boys mother Lily ended their year long relationship, disappeared, had the baby then abandoned him to the state when he was a tiny thing. She didn't even tell Jason she was pregnant, he found that out later through mutual friends, by the time he caught up with her the baby was gone. Lily rejected Jasons attempt to win her back and refused to tell him anything about the child. That didn't stop him though. Took him a while to find him, then convince the state he was the father, then he had to provide a fitting home for him. Jason did everything, even found a wife. Lance was four when they finally allowed Jason to have custody. I remember, Jason was so excited. As was his wife Karen." Diana was looking past the couple, in the direction of Andrews home lost in memory.

" Ms. Rose, we have a case in which the two victims, and the injuries they sustained, mirror the Andrews case. But as I said some details are missing and as Jason Andrews is no longer communicative maybe you could tell us, has anyone been around maybe asking questions about what went on there? About the child? Anyone been inside the home? Have you received any odd phone calls or received any mail or packages? Anything out of the ordinary that connects to the Andrews case?" Booth hated sounding so desperate but he didn't have enough information to begin the search for this guy.

"Let's see...oh hold on a second. About a year ago a man came to do a house inspection. Michael had decided to sell it. He lives ...lived in Tennessee, I've always had a key just for such purposes. Anyway, the young man said he needed access to the home. He had Michael on his cell phone who told me to open the house for him. So I did. The young man didn't talk much, suited me fine. But he did seem to know the basics of what happened there. The only thing that I found odd was something he said, " That it was a tragedy when a father and son are kept apart". Certainly didn't apply in their case. After what Jason did...well...he needs to be kept far away from his son. But then, I don't recall the house ever going on the market after that...I just assumed they had changed their mind." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice.

"Ms. Rose do you think you could identify the man?",Bones asked skeptical the older woman would recall much after such a brief encounter. But, it was worth a try. She had brought along some files that included a picture of Pelant...just in case. As she rifled through the pages Jason Andrews info from their prison visit hit the porch floor. Much quicker than she would have expected the woman to move Diana picked it up and was seriously scrutinizing the page. She glanced from the page to Bones and Booth and back. She was shaking her head as a look of confusion took over her features.

"This name, says Jason Andrews...but that..is not Jason." She continued stareing transfixed on the inmates most recent file picture from the medical facility.

"Like I said Mam, he was severely beaten...that plus aging, its unlikely you would recog..." Booth started when he was cut off.

"Young man are you telling me that I don't recognise someone I watched grow up? That man looks very similiar but it is definately not him. Here let me show you.", The woman abruptly stood, leaving them on the porch and went inside. When she returned she was carrying a large black vinyl bound photo album. She resumed her position on the swing. Opening the book to nearly the last page she pointed at one of the images with a rather triumphant look.

"See.. right here!" She was directing their attention to a family photo, professionally posed and high quality, of a man, woman and small boy. "I believe this was taken just before Christmas of that year. See the shape of his ears, the distance between his eyes and the slight difference in the set of the jawline. Time wouldn't have changed him that much...injuries to the face maybe. But I just know, when I look into this mans eyes..I've never seen him before." She was tapping on the file photo while giving the agent a hard glare.

It was Bones who proceeded to analyze the photos side by side, looking for validity in the womans assertions. Booth became concerned by how long it was taking.._was this old lady right? _

"Booth...Booth she is correct! While their exterior features are very much alike, the underling bone structure is fundamentally different. Aging would not account for this. Nor would the injuries reported in the records. This is not Jason Andrews." Bones was filled with a sudden concern for their wayward profiler. Her worried eyes kept shifting between the images, pausing on the boy being held by their suspect. _This could be our killer... Poor Sweets he needs to know.._

Booth was stunned, but quick to react to he revealation. He immediately called Agent Shaw, told her to have the prison run every possible identity test on the mystery man in the wheelchair, and get a complete list of anyone paroled and released in the last year...regardless of crime. After hanging up with her he turned to the most helpful person in the world at this moment. " ...do you know where Coras' homeplace is...what it is? " he needed to find it as soon as possible. William Boyd was pretty sure Andrews would go there. If this is Andrews... _I gotta get in touch with Sweets._

The womans sparkiling green eyes were searching the porch area as if the answer to Booths question was hiding somewhere among the colorful petunias. "I..I'm not sure.. Cora, was Jasons mother, I know she came to Maryland from Virginia...but I don't recall a homeplace ever being mentioned. If my mother was still among the living, she could tell you...they were close. There was a cabin on the Shenendoah river but I believe they purchased that after, Cora and Michael Andrews Sr. married. I'm sorry...", she felt bad she was unable to help the now crestfallen agent more.

_Just great, that wasn't the answer I wanted to hear. But maybe she can tell me more about what happened._ "That's okay... you obviously knew the family well.", Booth gestured at the photo album still open on her lap. "I would appreciate any information about...what happened. I mean ...looking at this photo you would never know the kind of monster he was...is. Why?"

Diana traced a couple of the photos with the perfectly polished nail of her long index finger, a shadow of sadness cast itself over her whole being. Finally, she clasped her hands together resting them on the book. " I have lived here my whole life. Oh I left...for school...to travel..but I always returned. It was just Mother and I , Father died when I was quite young. Michael Andrews Sr. and Cora bought that place shortly after my parents moved in here. Cora was a homemaker.. was career military. They had Michael Jr. when I was eight. They tried for years to have another child but finally gave up. That's why Cora was so suprised when she became pregnant at the age of forty-six, back then it wasn't as fashionable or safe to have a baby so late. But she did and she was ecstatic. But Mr Andrews...you see he was nearly fifty-seven...he was nearing retirement...he just wasn't as excited. Unfortunately, Coras' pregnancy took a heavy toll on her health. We helped her all we could of course..and then there was the older boy Michael. She relied a lot on him. Despite it all she was completely smittin with her " miracle boy". For five years she doted on him, then one night she had a massive heart attack ...just like that she was gone. Mr. Andrews was never quite the same. He was never a warm sort anyway, always kind of stiff and a stickler for dicipline...order. But Cora equaled his distant lack of emotion with her friendly warm-hearted nature. She was the heart. Once she was gone...most of the caregiving fell to Michael...he was still a child himself, only eleven. We tried to help out as much as possible." The woman shook her head sadly. "Time passed ...they kept more and more to themselves. Mr. Andrews retired...he became even more withdrawn. Michael managed everything. The pressure on him keeping up the house...essentially raising his brother...and then tending to his fathers needs. I suppose its no wonder things got...tense. You know, I always thought Mr. Andrews and Michael blamed Jason for losing Cora. Maybe that's why they were both so...hard on him. I never saw them hit the boy...but sometimes... I thought I heard..." , her voice trailed off weakly, she cleared her throat and straightened abit, "I don't know...it was a long time ago, times were different."

"So you suspected some kind of abuse and did nothing about it?, Bones found the womans inaction mindboggling.

"And who would they have believed? The hippy, art student..who was only home part-time. Or the decorated war veteran and upstanding member of the community. Colonel Andrews was very respected by the leaders of our little town. Besides, as I said I never saw anything." The older woman stated matter of factly.

" Jason was such a smart young man. He could do anything... When Michael turned eighteen he left...said he wanted to join the Army. Jason was a very independent young man. He did so well in school he was skipping grades. By the time he was sixteen, he was a senior. Despite the rough times he really seemed optimistic...he had a plan. He said he wanted to atttend MIT...study computers and electronics. He was always messing around with the lastest gadgets. I'm not exactly sure what happened...I was away traveling. By the time I returned, Mr. Andrews had suffered a dibilitating stroke and Jason was taking care of him. Any plans for college were put on hold. He was eighteen then. That's when he met Lily...she was a drama student at the school I was...well.. I was dating the professor, which didn't last long. She needed a place to stay...so I suggested she stay here. She was twenty-one. Lily was a real charmer. All the guys loved her...After Jason noticed her, he was always finding excuses to come by. They hit it off too. He was young but sometimes seemed older then her. She teased him for being "stuffy". But he was head over heels in love with her. They had been dating for about a year...when he asked her to marry him. He ask her in front of all their friends...I think she didn't want to embarass him..so she said yes. But she was never the marrying type...too much of a freespirit to settle down. She left. She swore me to secrecy...", Again the woman seemed lost in a moment far away. "...but Jason was so upset...he thought something terrible had happened. He just couldn't believe she left voluntarily..it had to be fowl play. I couldn't stand to see him so heartbroken...so...so I told him she left. I should have never broke my promise to her. Maybe then..." she let the weight of twenty some years of guilt crash down as tears. "Maybe then he would never have found out about his son. Maybe... if I had just kept that one promise...that night would never have happened."

Booth reached out placing a comforting hand on the womans still clasped hands.

"Ms Rose...you didn't know. I can tell you saw decent person in Jason Andrews...you just wanted to help him. But, what happened that night." Diana looked into his dark sincere eyes, then pulled herself together.

"It was.. was after his wife Karen, had left for the second and what looked to be the final time. They had started having problems after Jason lost his full-time position at a company that installed security systems. They accused him of stealing equipment...thats what Karen believed anyway. He said it was downsizing. Either way he started working as a freelance electrician. He also had an electronic repair business he ran out of his garage turned repair shop. He was home most of the time ...not sure who he had watching Lance after Karen left. I offered but after how things went with Lily he didn't have much use for me anymore. I know how cliché this will sound but it was a dark and stormy night...and the power was flickering. Thunder was booming. I was living alone by then. I was watching an old horror movie that night too. The wind was howling, it had caught the screen door and was making the awfulest banging noise...scared the hell out of me. I went to secure the door and just as I opened it, the loudest crack of lighting hit and my little girl Angel ran straight outside." Booth and Bones gave each other confused looks. But, before either could ask Diana continued "Well I couldn't just leave her out in that kind of weather. She would be having her litter soon." The couple shared an understanding glance.

"I grabbed a flashlight and went out calling for her. She was always a little skittish...and she ran into the boxwoods in front of his house. I noticed his van was gone..and the house was dark..but when I got close...well that's when I heard him. It was the most pitiful sound..screaming to be let out, crying for "Daddy". I tried the door but it was locked. So, I used the flashlight, to break the front window, I was able to open it and climb in. By then I didn't hear anything. For a moment I panicked thought maybe I was mistaken, but I looked around anyway. There was blood on the hallway wall...as soon as I saw the closet door I knew... there was blood smeared around the knob and a sliding lock. When I opened that closet...he ..he wasn't crying anymore...he wasn't moving... I thought I was too late. But when I touched his cheek he opened his eyes. I called 911. The ambulance came...then the police came", Dianas tone hardened as she spat out the next words. "..and then Jason came in right behind them." She shook her head, " He came in as they were taking that poor broken child out on a stretcher...he had the nerve to act upset!...Like he didn't know what happened! Tried to say he had left Lance there with a sitter...Craig..Christian...Chris..I don't know. But there wasn't anyone else...it was him! I was so upset...so mad...what he did. Hearing him lie. I smacked him..right across the face...He seemed so stunned... Well after that..the police arrested him, took my statement, and that was the last I saw of him or Lance until the trial.", She was so disturbed by the memories that Booth felt the hands beneath his shaking. He gave them a gentle pat. Tears swamped her eyes.

Brennen understood now, just how heavy the burden of guilt this woman must have been carrying all this time. She had not helped Jason as a child and had not kept a promise to her friend with very dire consequences.

" ..you could not have known what was going to happen Ms. Rose ...but in the end you were there for Lance Sweets. When he needed someone. You were that someone." ,Bones placed her hand over her partners.

"Thank you...for that dear. But how does my little storytime help you find Jason? " she asked gruffly pulling her hands away. She was done hand holding,"If they lost track of him.. I need to know , so I can clean and load my Fathers revolver. Jason was none too happy with my part in his incarceration."

Booth heard the fear behind her tough talk. _I'm not going to let Andrews hurt anyone else. Time to find this bastard._ He took out his phone. Calling to set up survelence and protection of Ms. Rose. Excusing himself, he left Bones with Diana.

Bones retrieved the photo of Pelant, taking this moment to ask the woman if she recognised him. After studying it she shook her head she couldn't be sure.

"Ms. Rose do you mind if I take this album. It may offer clues to Andrews plans. The tired lady shrugged and handed the book over. Booth soon returned.

"There, you don't have to worry...I have a security detail on you. I also wondered if we could take a look around the Andrews home..you said you had a key?" Agent Booth was eager to find this guy.

"Oh well ..yes ,of course...I'll have to call Barbara, Michaels widow...make sure you have permission without a warrant. I'll go do that." She left the swing and went inside. While they waited for her return Booths phone rang, it was Agent Shaw, the identity of the man in prison was a Byron Mathis. He was released seven months ago timed served for robbery. _Damn _

Bones had been flipping through the book of pictures. She stopped on a picture of young Jason Andrews with his arm around a dark haired, dark eyed beauty. Reading the bone structure of each smiling face she had no problem piecing together their young pychologists features.

"Alright...Barbara gave the go ahead...let's go." Diana called out, then started down the steps ahead of the partners.

When they entered the home it was typical of one shut up for a long time. It smelled stale and musty. Everthing had a fine layer of dust. There were boxes everywhere, some packed with books, others nik naks and many still needed filling. Someone had started emptying the rooms but left the job undone.

"Michael, thought about selling or renting the place out...he never did either though. As you see most everything is the same as it was then. Michael didn't stay in the house long after Jason was sent to prison. He just hung on to it." She mentioned as Booth looked at the wall of shelves in the living room. There was a lot of military momentos, books.. tons of books and some rather nice model planes. He moved from the living room into the hallway. Halfway down he found the hall closet. The door was much brighter white than the other doors further down, indicitive of fresh paint. Near the top of the door was a number of poorly hidden screwholes were the sliding lock must've been. He turned the knob. Inside there was nothing...it was empty. The entire inside was coated in the same bright white paint. Even empty there wasn't much space. Booths gut churned at the thoughts of being locked inside there. He shut the door and moved on. Another door...a bathroom. Another door...a large master bedroom. Another door... a small bedroom. Booth walked into the space. Sky blue walls. Kid sized furniture. A desk, bookshelves..lots of books. A large basket of toys ...all sorts. A wide chest of drawers with a mirror. But the thing that caught his eye was the twin bed. In a room stuck in a moment in time with things left where they had been tossed ...the bed didn't fit. It was only an empty frame. He shook his head. As he walked near the dresser he noticed one of the drawers had been left slightly open. Curious...Booth pulled the drawer. It had been rifled through. He held up one the garments...a boys pajama top with a fire truck motiff. He checked the label. _Son of a bitch has been here. _He tossed the top back down. He had his phone to his ear as he met in the living room.

"...Yeah, I want the whole house searched.", he put the phone away. "Thank you, for your help , we're gonna do a thourogh search of the residence... I have reason to believe he has already been here. The security detail should be here any minute. They will keep an eye out if he returns...don't worry we will protect you."

"Huh...Well I hope they do a better job than the correctional institution has done..." Diana scoffed

Booth looked around, "Bones!"

"In here Booth!", Bones voice emanated from a hallway beside the kitchen. At the end of the short hall was a door that opened into a large garage that had been almost completely used for the purpose of Andrews repair shop. Booth entered, it was full of dated gadgets in need of repair. Big tvs, stereos, early computer and game systems. Like a museum of dusty old technology. There was a lot of video equipment. Bones was interested by a box on the work bench...suspiciously clean of the dust that clung to all the other surfaces. The box was open, inside were numerous VHS cassettes.

"Booth...", she turned facing him holding something ...it was a USB in her gloved hand. " This was lying beside the box." Her forehead wrinkled in anxiety. She understood it couldn't be a good thing.

" We'll go ahead and take that and this.." he grabbed the box. " Techs can search the..." Booths phone buzzed in his pocket, " Booth...what? Hey good work Shaw send me the information...we'll go check it out..thanks. Good work. " he looked at Bones. "Shaw thinks she found "Coras homeplace" we're gonna check it out...now."

**Not good I know... it will get better ...I hope. Reviews are always appreciated.**


	12. Chapter 12 Up In Flames

**Chapter 12: Up In Flames**

**Don't own Bones never have never will.**

Anglea gripped the steering wheel so tightly that her hands hurt. After leaving Michael in the hands of one of the most protective and careful persons she knew, she had set out through a maze of narrow back streets in DCs older residential neighborhoods. Jack was pleased when she had said she would take the day off...send Michael Vincent to spend the day with Max and Christine. He was so relieved. Angela knew Max Kenon would protect Michael at any cost...he wasn't your average grandpa type. The night before the "Angelatron" had done its job. Three possible houses...three possible addresses. Unfortunately, the houses looked so similair and her memory of the exterior wasn't quite what she had hoped. _I would have paid closer attention if I'd known this crap was gonna happen. _So she made a desperate desicion...to drive by each..find the right one and then...then what? _ It's only Friday, it won't be seventy-two full hours until tomorrow evening. Do I wait until then? Can Sweets wait that long?..What if Hawkins sees me doing this ...my God what if...no..no..Michael is with Max, "kills to protect his loved ones" Max Kenon...he is probably safer with him then me. I'll find the house..then decide._

"..In zero point four miles..turn right onto Pearson Street..." the stilted computer voice interrupted her thoughts. The first address had been easy to find..too easy. As soon as she saw the easily visible street signs she knew it couldn't be the one. There had been no signs. _Jerk probably took them down himself. _Pearson Street turned out to be more of a glorified asphalt path then proper street. Overgrown hedges were eating into the already lacking width of the unlined road. Massive trees stretched wooden arms overhead, making it feel like you were heading through a living tunnel. This felt right to her. "...point two miles ahead turn right onto Cora Harris Street. Your destination is forty-eight yards on the right..." Angela slowed her speed to a crawl trying not to miss the opening in the vegetation that would be her next turn. As she swung the minivan right she wasn't prepared for the sight that greeted her through the windshield. Down the road was parked one, lights flashing fire truck, after another. But, it was the billowing black smoke and flashes of yellow/white flames licking the sky some forty or so yards away that held her spellbound. She tried pulling up as close to the scene as the young volunteer fireman waving at her would allow, she put the minivan in park. She worried he would make her leave altogether since he was striding over to her vehicle. But someone must have called him away, because he turned and ran, disappearing into the parking lot of fire department vehicles. Alone, Angela noted the vaccant lots...the" one other house" with its yellow tape and notices affixed to the boarded up door. This was the street. And that flame engulfed heap of wood was the house...hundred year old timber was now kindling burning with white hot intensity, sending a rush of stifling warm air across her skin as she stood behind the driverside door. From her vantage point she had trouble seeing, so she closed the door and began walking in a wide arc across the street up into the vacant yards, through the backyard of the "notice house" and around the mass of flashing vehicles until she found herself in another empty overgrown yard. Only a weedy, cracked sidewalk and a set of concrete steps leading into nowhere indicated where a home once stood. Now up hill from the blaze, she could see everything. Most of the structure had collapsed in on itself, though the firefighters were trying to douse the fire, flames continued to spring right back to life. Then she noticed a hose lying abandoned beside the nearest hydrant, both going unused. The hydrant further down the street was likewise going unused, though she did see two men messing with it as if trying to fix something. So they were limited to tanker trucks. Nonetheless they worked diligently to contain the blaze. _Containment it was all the can do at this point. _ Then with a shift in the winds, the gravel driveway beside the house became visible through a break in the smoke..._OH GOD its still there...they are still there! Oh god ..no..no..no. that can't be. _The black Chevy Suburbans passengerside tires were belching inky black smoke, after burning roof timbers had fallen against the vehicle. _I'm too late...if he's still in there then..there's no way.._ but then she thought, looking around hopefully for a rescue vehicle or ambulance...there wasn't one. _Maybe its left already... _ Tears streaming down her face , she ran down into the maze of trucks, hoping to find someone to talk to. But she wasn't finding anyone who wasn't too busy...passing her by..ignoring her. Driven further to tears by stinging smoke filled air and and an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness, she blindly wondered around until someone grabbed her by the arm. Whirling her around to face him, it was the young fireman who had waved to her to leave earlier.

"Hey, there ya are! Lady! What the hell are ya doin' back here!? It's not safe!", he had to yell over the sound of the trucks and burning inferno. "Com'on... ya need to get back in yer car!..."

Angela felt herself being led away ...It wasn't until they were nearly to the vehicle that she came to her senses. Turning on the young man she stopped him in his tracks.

"Wait!..look you don't undertsand, there was someone...well two people staying in there! That's his SUV burning over there! Look!... Tell me..tell me you got them or at least one of them out..please! Please say ...say that ..please" The fireman caught the distraught pleading woman in his arms as her knees buckled. He pulled her up..helping her take the last remaining steps to the minivan. He opened the door and gently helped Angela into the seat. He leaned in toward her resting his hand on her shoulder.

No longer yelling he tried to reassure her. " Look...um I don't know nothin' about anyone being inside. Promise me ya'll stay here..and I'll check with the Chief..but ya gotta stay here aright?". After she nodded vigorously he jogged back towards the action. Angela crossed her arms across the steering wheel then buried her head into them. Sobbing.

"Angela? Ange what are you doing here..." , Angela waited before lifting her head. _Did I just hear Brennen? _

"Angela start explaining, right now! What are you doing here?!", this time its was Booths anxious angry voice, Angela slowly lifted her head and turned to see the worried and confused visages of her bestfriend and her bestfriends husband.

"I...I ..um. I couldn't ...couldn't tell you...he said he would...he'd hurt Michael." Finally able to tell them ..Angela had troubles with the words. They were coming in bits and pieces. Her mind was shutting down. "It's Sweets!.. Sweets was with him in there!...ooohhh..." Angela reached for Brennen and clung to her.." He's dead...dead. Because I wouldn't tell...because I was too afraid." she buried her face in Brens shoulder. Brennen wrapped her arms around her hysterical friend and stroked the dark brown locks. _What do you mean dead Angela? Sweets can not be dead. He is with a federal agent on an assignment. Not in there. _She needed more information..and soon.

"Shhh, shh..Ange calm down please... what are you talking about? Why do you think Sweets would have been in there?" , Brennen tried to keep her tone calm..rational. But Ange seemed so sure...

"Yeah, come on Angela... Why are you here? And where's Sweets?!", Despite his partners wide-eyed glare, Booth didn't have any patience left.

Pushing away from Brennens embrace Angela pointed down the street and shouted at Booth " In there! ...he was in there with his father! ...Okay?..and I'm too late.." she crumpled to the ground crying and talking to herself. Manic babbling about time and threats and promises. She was inconsolable even though Brennen tried her best. Looking up at Booth from her position beside Angela. Bones asked the question.

" Booth, given Andrews escape... do you believe it. Do you think ...Sweets and Jason Andrews died in that house fire. Angela seems certain they were there. And this is Coras homeplace...oh Booth. What if..", her voice was breaking and her chest tightened painfully.

"Bones..shh..don't. We don't know anything yet...they may have been here...but they could have left. Until we have a bo...body... Sweets is alive. Got that!... And if he is with Andrews then we are gonna find him. " Booth was pacing and holding the back of his neck with his left hand as he gestured with his right. At that moment the fireman ran up to the trio...

"Hey! Uh ...", the man was perplexed by the scene he happened upon, the upset woman from earlier now had some equally upset looking company. He approached Angela but spoke to them all."Um.. aright spoke to the Chief...as far as we know the place was empty.." he shrugged hesitantly, " But...by the time we got the call and arrived the house was already too dangerous for anyone to go inside...so I'm sorry to say it, but if there was anyone in there ...we couldn't have got them out. They won't know for sure until the fires out and we can look through it...Sorry." the fellow nodded to Booth and the ladies then rushed back to his duties. Booth called out, flashing his credentials as he ran to catch up with the guy. He wanted to talk to the fire chief ...this was a crime scene now

Bones sat down on the ground beside Angela. With her arm around the womans still shaking shoulders, Temperance tried to make sense of everything. It had been Agent Shaw who found the place. While researching family property tax records. The house had belonged to Cora Harris, Cora Andrews great grandmother. Cora would bring the boys to visit her Great Aunt, who inherited the home, and visit the capital. Unfortunately, they found it too late. _Hopefully not to late for Sweets...how I hope he was not in there..._

Booth walked up out of breath," Well, ...I let the Chief know ..what we need to know...he said they nearly have it out. The hydrants were broken ..it took longer just using the tankers. As soon as its cool enough we can have a team begin looking...looking for remains." He watched the women for their reactions. Angela never even looked up. _Man is she upset, but she needs to talk to me, I need to know what she knows. _His wife seemed shaken but calm. Only her troubled eyes hinted at the worry she held within. Neverminding the suit, Booth joined them on the ground, sitting on the other side of Angela. Taking her by the hand, he leaned in speaking gently and quietly.

"Angela...I'm sorry I was so harsh. But now, I really need to know what happened. How do you know Sweets was in that house with his father?" For a few minutes she remained silent. Finally Angela related the entire story about how they had been taken by "Hawkins"..about the "deals". As she did the partners glanced at each other in disbelief. Booths free hand reached out for Bones. The trio sat there in silence comforting one another as what little was left of "Coras homeplace " and possibly a part of their family went up in flames.


	13. Chapter 13 Ashes to Ashes, Bones to Dust

Chapter 13: Ashes to Ashes, Bones to Dust

I would like to thank everyone for being here today...

To lay to rest any idea that I own Bones in any way ...I do not.

In lieu of flowers, we ask that reviews be sent via the little box...

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The fire trucks and firemen gave way to FBI vehicles, field agents and techs. The ground was a mucky mess of warm wet ashes and saturated earth, the air reeked of charred wood, scorched paint and the chemical scent of melted had put the fire out. Booth, Brennen, and Angela had refused to leave the scene. Agent Booth coordinated with the Fire Marshell as to the cause of the fire. He said it appeared to have started in the basement. Remains of a propane stove had been found at the point of ignition. The house had been full of furniture and building supplies that fed the fire. He would give Booth more information as his investigation continued. Bones had called a confused Hodgins to come and comfort Angela as well as bring their equipment, she had no intentions of leaving the search for remains to the FBI techs, _they may be qualified, but I ..we are the best, _

Hodgens pulled the Jeffersoinion van into the narrow street. He saw the smoldering remains of an old home, Agent Booth agitatedly waving his arms giving orders to his techs, Dr. Brennen was impatiently flagging him down, striding toward him as he slowly manuvered into a space near the scene and Angela ,his lovely sweet wife ,was sitting on the tailgate of Booths SUV wrapped in a blue jacket that had FBI emblazoned across the front. She looked extremely tired...just sitting there her head slightly tilted looking down at the street. Dr. Brennen had been short on details when she ordered Hodgins to the address saying that she would apprise him of the details as soon as he arrived. _I always seem to be the last to know anything these days._

"Dr. Hodgins...Jack..it would be best, I think, if you go talk to Angela, before we begin..." _Wow..Brennen never calls me Jack...unless. Anglea?! _A visibly worried Brennen urged the man on, before heading toward the back of the vehicle to retrieve her equipment. Hodgins dutifully hopped out and sped to Angelas side on the tailgate.

"Angie.. Honey..what's going on? I thought you were staying home.." Hodgins stopped his questioning when she turned to face him, ending his speech with her utterly forlorn appearance. Her large coffee brown eyes searched his features for a way to begin to tell him all the things she had withheld. To explain the reasons why. Why she had to lie to him. How she failed all of them ...failed Sweets.

Jack didn't understand what was causing his love so much pain...his only answer was to reach out for her. He pulled her in tightly, hands tangled in her hair. He kissed her gently on the forehead. She allowed herself the undeserved comfort of his warm embrace for just a moment. Then pulled back, distancing herself once more. She fumbled with a tissue someone had given her, staring again at her lap. Twisting and turning the wad of tissue around, over and over.

"Jack..Hon..you would do anything to protect Michael Vincent...right? [twist, turn, twist again] Well... so would I... that's why I couldn't just tell you. You see... that..that day, when I was kidnapped, it wasn't teenagers..it was Hawkins...I thought he was an agent, a friend...of Sweets so I went along...[twist, twist] I thought it would be a kick...[twist, untwist, twist]…. learn a secret or two about Sweets...He brought us here..." she went quiet, dark eyes locked on the torturous twisting of the tissue. Jack remained quiet, listening...waiting for her to gather her thoughts. " He...he said he was Sweets father...that I reminded him ..of her...he was going to kill me..." her left hand released its paper victim, its fingertips caressed the blue brusies on her neck, her tone though shaking with emotion seemed detached, as if she were relating some tired bit of gossip for the umpteenth time. "..but Lance stopped him...he..saved m..me. **He **saved **me**. And..and here we are and **I** didn't save **him **... I promised…..", Jack expected her to breakdown, to fall weeping into his arms..._ I'm here... _but she only pulled further away, her hand rejoining its twin in punishing the flimsy rag. [ twist, wad, untwist, twist] Refusing to looking away from its suffering. She remained silent.

"Oh, god. Angela...", Hodgins voice wavered slightly, the complete meaning of her broken confessions sunk in, as he glanced over his shoulder at the blackened pit that had been his partners prison. "So..so you think?.. Ooh..man! But..you're not sure... right? I mean Angie..listen they could have left." Jack Hodgins needed to find hope in what appeared a pretty bleak situation. _ I'm here for you Angie_

"Look, I'm gonna go find the proof you need..that's my job. Right? You'll see...it's going to be alright." Hodgins wrapped his arm around her tense shoulders and kissed her cheek. She gave no response.[twist, wad, twist, untwist, twist] He kept turning back watching her as he trudged off to get his equipment, in his last glance he witnessed as the tissue was finally put out of its misery, when she ripped it apart and let the pieces fall to the ground.

Hodgins approached the pit that used to be a basement. Dr. Brennen was crouching, studying something, she tilted her head in that manner he knew from their years of working together, she had obviously found something. The rush of discovery was usually a welcome sensation for the ever curious "bug, dirt, and slime guy"... but in this instance, the only feeling rushing him, was a stomach churning fear. _Maybe Angela's right.. _Booth stepped up next to him. He looked terrible. His rumpled black suit was sprinkled with grey ashe and mud marred his shoes. But more than that, was the pale haggard expression that hung on his features. Hodgins hated seeing the Agent like that.

"Bones? ", Booth was desperately looking to his partner..his wife... for assurance that there wasn't anyone in here. Those charred bits she held gingerly in her blue gloved hand were plastic, carbonized wood, ceramics...anything but bone. The down turned corners of her beautiful lips and stormy ocean blue eyes, tipped him off before she even spoke.

"There...are two sets of human remains. Here..", she gestured at the space near her feet ,"...and there.", she motioned at an area a few yards away. She struggled to remain professionally detached as she continued her peliminary findings. " There is very little left..the fire was intense enough to severely damage much of the skeletal structure. It will be very diffi...difficult to make an identification. Prehaps Dr. Sayroyan can...she can.." she looked up at Booth, an impossible wave of emotion rolling over her, drowning out the reasoned, rational report she was trying to give. Hodgins, who had lowered himself into the pit by this time, stepped close to his colleague.

" Dr. Brennen, why don't I get Fisher to come...he can handle this. At least help." Jacks words brought Bones back.

"What!? No..I will be fine...However, it will go quicker with another set of trained eyes. Call Mr. Fisher. The faster we get all the remains to the lab the faster we can... identify them.", After making a most rational decision, she went back to hovering over the spot where someone had died._ Someone male _Bones examined one of the larger bits of the blue grey bone. The heat had caused intense fracturing, some bones had warped and some were little more than black charcoal. She searched for pieces of the skull. Teeth with their hard enamel would be the most protected source of genetic material. Genetic degradation at these temperatures was almost a certainty. She spotted part of the radius, beneath the bone, something shiney caught her eye.

"Hodgins! I have found something that is in your area of expertise." She said as she pointed at the yellow metal blob just beneath the arm.

Gently the man removed the melted object, he examined it carefully through his magnifing lens._ Gold, silica, a watch maybe? _ Hodgins met Brennens expectant gaze.

"I'm not sure...I'll be able to tell you after I can do some testing." He lied. _Its a watch, an old gold watch with a glass face. Sweets had..has a watch like that. A lot of people wear gold watches. _He lied to himself. He went back to gathering samples. Brennen returned to gathering the bones.

Above them Agent Booth felt useless. All he could do was watch Bones and Hodgins...and wait. _Two bodies..two bodies and no answer on Sweets phone, two bodies and Angela swearing he was here. It can't be..._ Booth was about to give the burned Suburbans smoldering tire a swift kick when Agent Shaw came up behind him.

"Uh...Agent Booth? We have found something you need to see." Glad to have something to do. Booth followed his fellow agent to an area in what would be the backyard. Between two large singed bushes and the back fenceline were a couple of freshly dug holes. The field techs had noticed the disturbed ground and dug them. They found three plastic bags. Each held clothing and trash. Immediately Booth zeroed in on the bag that held the ripped remains of his friends favorite suit_ his "office suit" _, that bright blue shirt, _for "pop" _and the tie "_pulls it all together" See Sweets I listen... _He took the bag from the FBI tech, holding it closer, he could see dark stains. He also noted the remnants of breakfast, disposable dinnerware, an egg carton and empty bacon packaging. _"The fire originated from a propane stove." _It was hitting him...slamming into him...pain as real as an actual blow to his gut..._ this could really be happening...Sweets could be dead...his killer ..that crazy son of a bitch father of his could be dead too...there would be no one to catch...no justice to be had. Just a closed case, a completed file and a gaping black hole in their family. _He dropped the bag back into the techs hands. Turning his back on them, his hands formed tight fists. He wanted to punch something, to break and smash something. He was so angry...at..at everyone. Angry, that Andrews was released... angry, that Pelant had helped...angry that they..that he...didn't see how serious the connection had been...the danger his profiler was in. He was angry at Angela for not telling him... And he was angry at Sweets... for being so damned willing to ignore the past...to push them..._me.._ away everytime things got rough. To runaway so damned often that when he is actually taken...Booth didn't even question it. He was angry...angry with himself for failing his friend and his team. Angry for being too late..He grunted in pain as his foot slammed into the tire..._there take that! And this and this! ..._over and over.

"Booth!...Agent Booth stop! ", Cam Sayroyan had arrived with Fisher in tow. She was moving cautiously toward the wild eyed agent. " Booth..just stop. I understand...but you need to pull it together." Booths head jerked toward Cam, then followed her gaze...he saw the eyes of several FBI personnal who had paused in their duties to watch his assault on the tire. Coming to his senses he ceased the kicking. Limping slightly, he approached Cam giving a passing Fisher only the briefest nod.

"Thanks..Cam. So you know? About the possibilty that this could be...", Booth started

"I know. Hodgins filled me in." , Cam interrupted him, saving him from saying it aloud. " I understand. But we still don't know for certain yet. So until I do...I am not going to jump to any conclusions...and Seely neither should you. We don't know..." ,this time Booth did the interrupting.

"But I do know Cam... And what I know has my "gut" reeling! I know.. now..that Jason Andrews escaped, that he portrayed himself as "Agent Hawkins"...that Angela says Hawkins brought Sweets and her here..in this vehicle!" Booth kicked the tire again as his voice rose, "That those bloody discarded clothes? Those are Sweets!...What I know.. is that there are two sets of remains in that burnt out pit...and that I haven't seen any evidence yet that they left here! So please do not ... do not tell me what I know!" Booth stomped past the bewildered pathologist.

Cam knew Booth. She knew he was just lashing out. He was afraid...and when fierce beasts and fierce men are frightened, approach at your own peril.

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And there you have it...

R&R please


	14. Chapter 14 Loose Ends

**Chapter. 14 Loose Ends**

**Let's see...to all who review thank you so much...you know who you are ;-)**

**Disclaimer I do not own Bones**

His cheek stung from the smack used to bring him to.

"Get up! Come on..", Jason pulled Sweets by his good arm back upright. "..clean up. We've got a lot of miles to go before we stop. So make sure you do what you need to do here."

Lance found standing less difficult, the nausea was gone, the lightheadedness. Food and drink solved many ills. Slowly he limped in the direction of a small bathroom in the corner of the basement apartment. It was comprised of a simple sink, shower stall and toilet. No door...just a heavy curtain. Setting on the sink was his own familiar toothbrush and toothpaste, a washcloth and bar soap. Brushing his teeth was a challange one handed, but he managed. He did everything he needed to do. When he opened the curtain, he jumped back. Jason was standing right in front of him.

" Whatcha so jumpy for? Here put this on." Jason tossed a navy blue fleece zip up hoodie at him. When he looked at it he realised like the pants he was wearing...the shirt was his own, bought last fall. _He went into my apartment. Took my clothes. He's probably been through all my stuff...my things from Mom and Dad...it's all I have left... _These thoughts reminded Lance of the absence of his Dads watch on his wrist. _I want my watch back. _He glared at Jason. The thought of **him **wearing his Dads watch really pissed him off. He couldn't help it…his eyes automatically lit on the mans wrist then went back to throwing daggers. _Maybe I could..._The look didn't go unnoticed.

"Oh..what's the matter? You look upset..wait..is it? Is it this?" The older man held up the adorned wrist. " You want it back don't ya? That old man gave it to you, I bet? Nice bit of antique technology. Probably belonged to his father, before him." He smiled admiringly, "Nah... I think I'll hold on to it. You won't need to worry about the time." Jason could feel hate radiating off the young man in from of him. _Look ..he's thinking about doing something. But he won't do anything. He won't take that risk... _Sure enough within seconds the kid averted his gaze and moved to put on the the shirt. Stepping up to help, Jason zipped up the shirt and folded the unused sleeve. He clapped a hand on Lances shoulder and patted his cheek.

" See.. It's easy to be good...just make the right choice. Let's go." He directed Lance up the steep staircase. The door opened into a small hallway next to a mudroom. The mudroom led out to the gravel many windows in the small cluttered room bombarded Lances sight with light of the midday sun. Lance had to squint to keep pain from shooting behind his eyes. Once they were outside, in the open air, the desire to run, to get away...to do something billowed inside him... but he couldn't risk Christines life. He saw the black SUV, but that isn't where he was being led. They walked outside the gate he had so desperately attempted to make it to the other day. Parked on the street was a motorcoach. _A freaking RV...what the Hell...where the Hell are we going? _But it dawned on him...he could be going anywhere. Any hopes of making a break for it from other buildings, hotels, or stops along the way diminished. The vehicle was big...truly a "bus"._ A prison on wheels. Self-contained... but where the Hell are we going? Hell, does he even know?... _

"You think its nice on the outside wait 'til you see the inside." , Jason said with a creepy giddiness, like an overzealous car salesman. He opened the heavy door, and pushed a dubious Sweets toward the steps.. _If I get I get is this box on wheels.. how can they find me? The basement had been bad but it didn't get up and leave._ He dragged his feet..incurring a harder shove in the center of his cut, sore back_. Aaah! Damn!_ "Alright!...I'm going!". Ascending the steps he found himself inside his new "cell". At any other point in time, under other circumstances, he might have described the interior as spacious. Comfortable even. But, now in these circumstances he found it hard to appreciate the richly appointed details. Despite the upgraded finishes, granite countertop, stainless steel appliances, and rich wood cabinetry ,it had a typical "tenament on wheels" layout. In the forward area, was the drivers large captains chairs, in the "living space" more seating in the form of a sofa...a booth style dining area opposite the kitchenette. He noticed the all windows were completely covered by some metal sheeting...neatly riveted securely in place. As he wandered further in the " home away...oh so far away from home" he noted how just about everything had locks. The passengerside captains chair had a few additions in the form of heavy institutional style restraints. He didn't care to see the rest...

"See? Told you it was nice." His captors upbeat tone didn't change Lances opinion one bit. He just rolled those big brown eyes in disgust. _A cage is a cage no matter how nice it looks._ "Sit here!" Jason barked, annoyed by his sons lack of enthusiasum. Lance took his place in the plush leather seat. Which had been turned facing back toward the interior rather than looking out the heavily tinted windshield. He sat still as his good arm was strapped down on the wide armrest. Another restraint crossed his chest. He wasn't going anywhere now.

Grinning Jason, chuckled as he started down the steps out of the vehicle, "Wait here...I've just got a few loose ends to tie up...hehehe. Then we can get this show on the road!" Lance watched him disappear. With not much else to do he laid his head against the stupidly soft headrest and closed his eyes. Maybe he could dream of someplace better then the crazy reality he was stuck in.

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Hawkins strolled cheerfully, through the gate and down the graval drive, past the black SUV, past the mudroom entry way...the crunch of gravel gave way to the sound of shoes pushing through grass and weeds long overdue for a trim. Behind two huge fushias, he heard the metalic smack of a shovel tamping down earth.

"Oooh!" The shovel welding younger man jumped, startled. In his labors he hadn't heard Jasons approach. " Whoa , hehehe you scared me there for a minute." He explained glancing over his shoulder at the older man. He thrust the shovel deep into the freshly dug earth. It was a warm humid day already ..._its going to be as hot as Hell before the day's done.._ and sweat was rolling down his face into his umber eyes. In a swift unabashed gesture he slipped the dirty, damp, ill fitting dress shirt over his head. He used it then to wipe away the sweat and grime from his face and neck. The moisture turned his hair into a dark curly mess. _I'll be glad when I can go back to my buzzcut, like this its a pain in the ass _He rubbed the fine fabric over his scalp. Hanging the shirt over the shovel handle he turned to greet his frightener.

"Hey! See? ...I got it here..on time and unscratched. Hah! And you doubted my driving abilities." A cocky little smirk lit up the his features.

"There was never a doubt in my mind son...not a one.", Hawkins smiled back, a big amused grin. Reaching out he snatched up the soiled shirt, tossing it in the mans face as he took the shovel in hand. "Come on "Mario Andrette" we're not finished yet." Hawkins turned and walked away as the young man quickly caught up. Side by side the pair made their way out to the "bus". They removed something from the large storage compartment. They worked together quickly and quietly. Soon they were standing in the dimly lit basement. The older man was only slightly more winded than his younger partner. But the guy took the opportunity.

"Careful, "old man" too much physical exertion at your age isn't good for that old ticker of yours..." the young man chuckled to himself. _I've missed this._

Still heaving slightly, Hawkins gave the smartass in front of him a tilted look. "Old man, Huh? I'll show you "old man"...", before the younger man had a chance to react Hawkins had grabbed his wrist twisting his arm painfully behind his back forcing him down. The "old mans" forearm behind his neck shoved his face into the cold concrete. "...now what were you saying?! " He increased the pressure on the twisted wrist, garnering a satisfying yelp out of his helpless partner. Breathing hard and voice slightly panicked.

"No...othing...nothing I…I was just messing! Ahh!…", and just as quickly as he put him down, Hawkins was pulling the fellow up off the floor, dusting off the grime from his cheek before giving it a smack. "That's better. Now enough playing around...Did he give you any trouble? "

"Him..? ", he nodded toward the unconscious man bound and gagged on the floor. "Nah...no problem at all. You know he doesn't look that much like Lance ... you sure about this? "

"How he looks won't really matter, its just a matter of height and weight." Hawkins reassured him . "And I am absolutely sure about the outcome of our endeavors. Planning ahead that's the key. I'll get him ready, you finish getting the house ready.." , the man set off toward the stairs as Hawkins called out, jokingly. "...Hey!...No smoking on the job!..hehehe..." he heard the muttered reply " yeah.. yeah..funny" fade away into the recesses of the home. _Kid you have no idea how funny._

Several minutes later the young fellow stomped down the stairs. " Alright! I've done my part..we ready?" He slowed his pace when he realized there was nobody there. He saw the still unconscious man propped in a chair near the dividing wall of the basement apartment. "Hey! Jason! Where're you at?" When he saw the dark shilouette behind the bathroom curtain he felt relief.

"Oh..sorry. Um...I've been thinking. Instead of us meeting up later...why can't I come along now. I'm getting pretty sick of "kiddie" detail." He continues speaking loudly into the darkness. "...I don't see how anyone wears these monkey suits all the time...they don't fit either..I look like a kid wearing his dads suit. You know the little girl...called me Uncle Sweetsy. That's too close... Jason? Are you listening? I just think we should all leave together...now. Wonder if Lance will remember me ...Jason? " he saw his friends figure move through the shadowy basement towards him. "So what do ya say?"

" What I say is ...we each have our part to play to make this plan of mine come together...soo, we stick to the plan." Hawkins suddenly stepped into the dimly lit area next to his cohort. So close the younger man backed up a bit. "…and you, my boy, have a starring role..." his voice was oozing sincerity, as he took the disappointed young man by the shoulders, letting his hands slide up until he held him... his fingers lost in curls, while his thumbs brushed along the curve of his jawline. The younger man lifted his toubled gaze, meeting the intense hazel eyes drilling through him. "But I just think...aaghhh gaagh..."

Hawkins paid little attention to the hands grappling to pull his away, or when they clawed at his face. All he saw was the fear...the hurt...in those glassy dark eyes. He felt how the body deprived of precious oxygen, weakened... falling back against the brick column, how the skin, ligaments, and bone gave in as he pressed his thumbs in ever harder. He relished how he could feel the the heartbeat...pounding hard and fast as the first blush of panic set in ... then slowing down...slower..slower...aannd stop. Leaning in close, Hawkins whispered, " That's just it son...you didn't."

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**Soooo there was a bit of Sweets. Timeline...shimeline.. I know its a tad out of sequence...And the names may be confusing...but its not really. Bear with me please...the road ahead is dark and paved in...**


	15. Chapter 15 Puzzle Pieces

**Chapter 15 : Puzzle Pieces**

**A short chapter, **

**Thanks to all who read, special thanks to those who review!**

**I don't own Bones**

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The fact that ...for the second time in one week, Dr. Camille Sayroyan was snipping bloodstained bits of material from a friend and colleagues clothing was not lost on her. She carefully carried out her task trying hard to not think too much about the realities that the future may hold. The genetic testing on Angelas dress...matched. It had been Sweets blood...no suprise now, but now it was evidence in the "Andrews / Sweets Case". The samples she was currently gathering would also be Sweets..._but we are going to check everything, cross every t and dot every i . _Her hand paused over dark charcoal grey pants leg with its ripped out knee. _I remember this suit...I remarked how glad I was to see him , finally, looking more "tailored " and "put together". He was finally finding his way...sigh... _Cam snipped the cloth and deposited it in the tube. She would run the tests on the clothing, swabs of the breakfast dinnerware and cup. But the bones themselves _possibly Sweets remains...now nothing more than just a bunch of charred bone... _she would send them to the genetics lab at Quantico. The high temperatures in the blaze had done so much damage, that the chances of finding any useable DNA were greatly diminished. _I'm good but this is their area of expertise...I need the best people on it.. _ It would take up to three weeks to get results. _Three weeks of not knowing for certain...of limbo.. _She hoped that Dr. Brennen would be able to find something, anything, proving they were all wrong. But that too, will take time. At this very moment, Dr. Brennen and her interns were putting together a macabre jig saw puzzle. One with many missing pieces...misshapened pieces...pieces that were cracked and fractured, pitted and chipped. She had no doubt the puzzle would come together...eventually. Done with the pants, she moved on to a bloody towel. Everything had been in plastic bags buried in the backyard. She looked at the contents of each, carefully placed on evidence trays. One held the small clothing of a young child...Brian Forresters. The other the teen boy... Daniel McKay. Their clothing was really clean... no rips, no blood stains, faintly fresh scented. Cleaned, sanitized... But then, they had been redressed to favor different times in Sweets life. It was those pieces of clothing that had witnessed their torturous deaths.

Brennen stood over the stainless steel table sorting through the bones piece by piece. While she focused on the bones of the younger male, her interns , Mr. Vaseri and Mr. Fisher busied themselves with the other set of burned remains, an older male. So far she had only been able to determine gender, race and an estimated age range, mid twenties to early thirties. Too much was missing. There had not been any teeth recovered. The most intact and largest bone had been the pelvis. She had learned from Booth, that the Fire Marshel had found the fires intensity had been increased due to the amount of combustable construction solvents stored in basement, as well as a build up of wood flooring, paneling and various other supplies that fueled the inferno. in an effort to speed reassembly she would have each piece scanned , with the computing speed of the Angelatron and Angelas three demisional manipulation software, solving the puzzle would go faster. _Except Angelas not here...I hope she is doing better today. _

Hodgins was running tests on the various chemicals that helped excellerate the blaze. If they knew exactly what was in there they could see who purchased it, when. Hodgins didn't buy the accident theory... _It was too conveinent. As far as we know that wasn't Sweets or this Andrews guy... _Jack had left his wife and son at Booth and Brennens place this morning with Christine and Max, under the guise that Michael needed a playdate..., _and Max can keep an eye on Angie. _Ever since the fire, Angela had been...soo withdrawn. She barely communicated with him. She would hold a puzzled Michael Vincent, who wondered aloud " Why is Mommy crying?". "What's wrong with Mommy?", he couldn't begin explain to his four year old what was going on... _I' m not sure I know Buddy, but I'm going figure this all out so Mommy won't be so sad...I promise. _It had been a foolish promise. But one he would try to fulfill nonetheless. He could solve this...he just needed all the pieces.

Finn Abernathy and Edison had joined Aristoo and Fisher in the ooky room, taking Dr. Brennens place. They had been called in to work on an "especially important case" nothing else had been revealed. They were to sort through the bones, identify, note all damage, prepare them for scanning. While Doctor Brennen had been present, the interns had been quietly focusing on their task. But now...curiosity was getting the better of the youngest member of the group.

"Hey fellas, does anyone know where these bodies are from? Dr. Sayroyan was a might bit tight lipped. An Thursten, didn't even say "Hey!" or nutthin. Kinda get the feeling they're all on edge."

"I don't know. I was preparing to examine some newly acquired neanderthal remains ,when Doctor Brennen requested I assist on this case. Looking at the mess these bones are in I understand why.", Clark responded as he placed a peice of skull on a tray, moving it under the microscopic camera watching the item on the screen.

Aristoo glanced between the two..annoyed. He knew. He had held Cams shaking body in his arms all night as she tried to hide the sobbing. She would not say anything specific...just that everything would be explained when the time was right. But, he had been here when Booth blew up in Angelas office. He had noticed the bloody suit in Cams lab. He knew that Hodgens was acting like a man on a mission and that his wife had been MIA for two days. He knew he had never seen Dr. Brennen this urgent to get a ID. He knew his beloved Camille was suffering more anxiety, since yesterday, than she had all week. And it had been a tense week. He knew a lot. He had enough pieces …

"I'm sure we will know more when it is the right time ...until then, prehaps we should just focus on the work at hand." Aristoo insisted, never looking up from his examination of a piece of bluish black femur.

"Aristoo is correct...gentlemen. Time is of the essence...", Fishers tone was even more subdued...if that was even possible. "Dr. Brennen needs a proper identification and soon." He exchanged a brief glance with Aristoo. He knew too. He had known something unusual was afoot when Hodgins had called him to the burned out pit, " to assist and possibly takeover for Doctor B", when Dr. Sayroyan drove like the proverbial " bat out of hell" to get there, when he witnessed how a glassy red eyed Brennen was even more exacting in her work then he had ever seen before and how Agent Booth was kicking the life out of some burnt SUVs tire. He had even noticed a traumatized artist sitting on a tailgate. They were all there ...all but one. There was one piece of the "Jeffersonian/ FBI crime solving puzzle" missing from the picture. Fisher held up the bone chip... _from the sternum?.. _pondering how life was a puzzle, each moment another piece, falling into place... ultimately forming a complete picture of ones total exsistence ...until death came... knocking over the table scattering all the pieces. _Leaving people such as my self to pick them up and put it back together again._

Finn shrugged defeated, then returned to his work.

Agent Booth was coming from one of the most intense meetings with his superiors he had probably ever had. With Angelas revealations, came intense scrutiny over the actions of everyone involved with the case over the past week. The Deputy Directors superior wanted answers from him. He wanted answers from Booth. How does someone get taken from a secure FBI parking garage? How did this Andrews get Agent Hawkins credentials? Where is Hawkins? Did Andews kill Forrester? McKay? Why hadn't Booth revealed the connection to their top profiler sooner? Were the bodies those of Dr. Sweets and Andrews? Booth explained the best he could. But his answers, seemed weak ,even to him. He questioned each decision he had made. He shouldn't have left Sweets out of the investigation ..._then he would have been with us... _He should have found "Coras Homeplace" earlier. He should have questioned Angela instead of just letting her call the shots ..._she should have told me ... _There were a few pieces falling into place. _Too late.._ The FBI computer geeks had confirmed that the hacked files had Pelants "signature" all over it. He had helped every step of the way. Exchanging files so that upon Andrews arrival at the medical facility, Andrews would become Byron Mathis, who would be transferred to a minimum security prison, then finally released. Free as a bird. While the fake "Andrews" was still safely locked away victim of a debilitaing and most likely induced demented state. _Pelant! Even dead the bastard ...he still got to him. He was so obsessed.. he couldn't leave that loose end. No...he found another way to kill Sweets... and I was too late this time... _Booth slammed the door to his office and flopped into his leather desk chair...buried his throbbing head into his crossed arms atop his cluttered desk. Cam had told him not to rush to conclusions. But right now things looked pretty bleak. He knew he should hold out hope until the Id process …_which could take three weeks!?… _was complete. In the meantime, he should gather all the pieces of information he could... until he found that most important piece. _That missing piece. _Booths broad shoulders shook within the dark suit. _But what if we already have that piece ?... _

"Are you sure I can't get you something, Angel ...maybe one of Tempes herbal teas?... Shot of bourban? ", Max gave the broken woman sitting on the end of his daughters sofa a genuinely concerned smile, he was only half joking on the last part. His daughters bestfriend, the lovely, outgoing artist that always had a smile for him, barely lifted her eyes away from the sketchbook she had been staring at for the last couple of hours, to shake her head. True to his word to "the bug guy" Hodgins, he had kept an eye on her...it was easy she had hardly moved. When the kids came running in, playing a boisterous game of "you can't catch me!", the boys mother watched them, just a hint of a smile began to appear, only to disappear when some terrible thought, swirling around in that troubled mind, forced her gaze back to the blank page. _She's been through hell...but she didn't have much choice. She was protecting her child and sometimes we have to make the hard choices... right? Surely ...with time.. she will forgive herself. We can't blame ourselves... for doing the right thing. _Tempe had called him asking if he would continue watching his "Lil' Sweetheart" while she stayed at the lab. Stay at the lab? He had chided her for working too hard... "the dead can wait!" It was then that he heard the break in her voice as she explained the importance of starting right away. Before that call was over his ever stoic daughter... was crying into the phone. He had with words, tried to "hold" her, reassure her. She had appologized for being so "irrational", she should wait until she had definitive proof of identity. _..No Tempe you __**should **__ feel upset...you __**should **__let it out... _And so he watched Christine. Booth made a brief appearance that morning. A shave. A change of clothes. A hug and kiss to Christine. A quick "Thanks Max..." then was gone again. _Booth was a mess... a real mess. This whole buisiness was a mess. Maybe I could... _ Max Kennans mind worked as he tried to piece together a way he could help his family... other than babysit.

_" I could have done so much more...I should have ..." _Angelas chest hurt from holding back the emotions that still wanted to pour out of her. It was exhausting... try as she might she couldn't stop the continual playback in her mind. _"You sure you want to go with us...last chance to change your mind?"..."Promise not to rat you out… "… "Stop...just please stop..." …" I promise ...we will save you.." …"Promise..." ._

"…some…herbal tea?… a shot of bourban?", _"What? Oh...Max is asking something...no there's not enough herbal tea in exsistence to make me feel better...thanks..._Angela shook her head no and continued watching the bloody nightmare of this past week roll past her minds eye. Then the endless script, was torn apart with the sharp squeals of silly toddlers running past. She stole a moment of their happiness...almost letting it lift her lips into a smile... but the squeals morphed into the screams in her nightmares... _he wanted me to save him...he keeps screaming for me to find him...I did...I did but...but... too late… _She returned to her emptiness...so full of guilt and sadness and anger and pain and …hate.

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**Thanks for reading...now be a doll, and review. I would love a lil' feedback. **

**I am wondering how dark the upcoming chapters should get for our lil' crime solving team? Opinions & ideas on the matter will be taken under consideration.**


	16. Chapter 16 Dazed and Confuzed

**Chapter 16 : Dazed and Confuzed**

**Thanks to asc12, MONEBUDDHA, & sldlovespandf15 for the reviews!**

**Thanks to anyone reading this. Please please please review...it makes my day..even if its just to say "yeah so I read your dumb ol'story" **

Disclaimer I do not own Bones

**Now..do I look like I own Bones?...NO! (eyeroll) ||head shake|| **

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He had heard the opening of the door, the footfall on the steps and he had noticed the faint scent of _gasoline? alcohol? can't put my finger on it..._. But kept his eyes closed...no reason to engage **him **in conversation or anything else. All attempts to doze off had been futile. While the seat should be comfortable, the pressure of it against his back, created an itchy, scratchy tug on the bandages and the scabbing cuts beneath. The tape on his shoulder had loosened as he shifted uncomfortably forward, allowing it too to shift painfully. The restraint across his chest cut into him as he leaned against it. His back had a prickly aching burning sensation..._greeat I'll probably die from an infection..eh could be worse...no, no, no... don't think about dying… They're going to be searching for you. Angela is probably telling them where they can find you...sure we wont be there ,but I'm sure...Hodgins will find this "beohemoths" tire tracks. Probably some sample of dirt or something else useful... Angela can use the traffic cameras to locate us...yeah..and Booth will be throwing up road blocks all over... yeah ... Booth won't let you down..right? Hhmm...maybe but __**he **__is crazy...__**he'll **__ just run into them ...__**he **__will go down in a blaze of glory! ...who knows… maybe I can do something before that happens...and risk the lives of innocents...real brave..remember, one missed call and he will ...call...call if I could get hold of one of the phones...What the hell are you thinking? You think __**he's **__ just going to let you phone home E.T...__**he's n.e.v.e.r **__going to give you that opportunity again. Face it...you're never getting out of this box..._ the arguing was giving him a major headache...or was it the fever that was steadily building. He wasn't sure. Then he heard the rumble of the engine...the sound of breaks releasing. Soon he felt them moving..._this is it I'm gone... _A heavy, anguished groan slipped out ..._Damn! So much for appearing asleep! Geesh! ... but hey ..__**he's **__driving, not like __**he**__ can do much to ya now..hehehee,..." ..Don't make me pull this big ass motorcoach over young man!" ...hehehe...funny. Ugh! Is __**he **__going to hit EVERY godforsaken pothole on the road!...probably..and on purpose too!..sadistic bastard!_

He opened his eyes...he looked back into the living space. _That sofa looks pretty good...ahh..I could just lay down and go to sleep...get out of this stupid! freaking! seat... _He felt worse with each passing moment...each mile. He tried again to relax but the aches and pains made it impossible. He strained a protesting neck around to see the older man contentedly steering ,eyes on the road ahead..._was he humming?...oh god..just kill me now! _He was starting to shiver.. _not good.._despite the fleece top. He didn't want to atrract **his **attention...but he was chattering his teeth uncontrollably at this point …_you would think with the way my backs on fire I should feel warm...stupid fever, [yawn] ..if I could just [yawn] lay back. _The sound of his own stuttered breathing was all he could hear, one part of his mind was ranting wildly on an on about how it was freezing, while the other wanted the pain in his shoulder and back to go! His head hung down, he closed his eyes. He didn't hear the brakes...didn't even notice they had stopped. Until he felt a hand palming his damp forehead.

"Ah..dammit...your burning up!"

"Don't blame me ...I didn't do it. Nope..it's alll..your fault. Heh he he..ugh.", Lances fever induced musings didn't seem to phase the bemused man very much, as he worked the restraints loose.

"Really now?...Well then, I guess it's up to me to make it all better then. Come on Son, ...let's get that fever down.", Jasons soothing tone had the effect he hoped for...Lance began pushing himself up from the seat, but the sudden motion sent the headache to dizzying heights. Jason, was surprised when the young mans hand gripped his shoulder...soon standing on unsteady feet, a shaking Lances first tenatative step forward came to an abrupt halt, his head hung low ... he buried it against Jasons shoulder...mumbling quietly.

"...I don't feel so good Dad... ", Jason was in shock. ..._he called me Dad?..finally!..progress..._

"...**he**...found me...**he's **going to kill me. You promised I would be safe...but you and Mom are dead...huh..then how are you here now?... maybe I'm dead ..." Lance mummered confused whispers so low Jason couldn't hear them.

Jason helped his son through the narrow passage that led into the back of the rv. Upon seeing the inviting comfort of the bed before him, Lance collasped onto it. _Thank god...now I can sleep! _But he felt a hand pulling him back up into a sitting position, _...no..no..just let me sleep... _He tried feebly to swat away the hands unzipping the fleece shirt.

With the shirt removed, Jason inspected the kids back, the angry red streaks on the pale skin between the lashes validated his suspicions. He had hoped the antibiotics would have time to stave off infection...guess not. _Ah well...can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs...mind you, we don't want the whole damn thing to burn up either...so... _"Hey, hey.. can't sleep yet. Just...uh sit here for minute..".Jason disappeared. When he returned he had a bag and a bottle of water. His "patient" was slumped forward awkwardly, nearly off the edge of the bed. The shivering had returned.._going higher.. _He placed bag and bottle on the bed, kneeling in front of his son, he placed one hand on his shoulder, with the other he checked his pulse. _...faster.. _Suddenly Lance lifted his head, wild eyes with blood red fractures burning across their glossy surface locked on a startled Jason. Disoriented, the wide eyes narrowed, while Lance arrived at a conclusion.

"Dad!... Dad you're back!... First you were here...then poof you were gone!...like magic..[sigh]..it would have be magic…..", Lances fevered mind searched for answers.

"Don't w-worry I…I'm here..", Jason was beginning to understand.… _its not me… he thinks I'm that old geezer… but __**I'm **__the one who's going to make it better… __**I'm **__the "dad" he needs now… can't he see… just a little respect, appreaciation...…Hey..don't sweat it... "sweat it", "fever"...get it hehehe..take what you can get ... besides this could be fun...Who knows we might learn something interesting ...useful… _a broad smile spread across Jasons features, "...I promised to take care of you...keep you safe. Well here I am...now sit up, you need to take some medicine..." Jason pulled a bottle of Tylenol from the bag …_like a boy scout, be prepared hehehe..._ he dispensed a couple of caplets into Lances trembling hand. The kid took the pills then reached for the water. Realizing how thirsty he had become he downed half of it. Satisfied with that, Jason stepped into the bathroom. Lance heard the running of water..._what's Dad doing?… _He cringed at the touch of the cool damp handtowel "Dad" was attempting to place upon his burning forehead.

"… Dad.. that.t.s c..cold...ugh!.."

"I know Son...I know..but you're too hot and this will help...okay? You know I wouldn't do anything bad to you...I love you." The syrupy tones oozed easily into Lances adled mind.

" F..fine." the flushed face tilted to one side thoughtfully, as the towel glided down his arm, losing much of its chill as it soaked up the heat radiating from his body. "... hey Dad... th..this reminds me of time I my leg and arm in high school." Hazel eyes glinted with curiosity.

"Really? And how's that?" He asked getting up to refresh the now warm towel.

"Remember...I couldn't get the casts wet...had to h..have help..." Lance was breathing faster and the chill was worse...his brain was trying to pound its way out of the top of his skull. He felt so...weird. _… maybe its because your talking to your Dads ghost...I've missed you so much… _

_" _That's right..Well breaking an arm and a leg was quite a feat...", Jason said, " Tripped and fell down the stairs...how did you manage that?" He recalled the medical file. He handed the water bottle back to Lance urging him to finish it. Lance drained the bottle and let it fall to the floor.

"Yeeah...[sigh]...I lied..", Jason noticed the fretted brow and slight frown, as the kid went silent in thought staring at the floor.

"Lied? About tripping?", Jason was intrigued. _Now why did you lie to "ol' gramps"? ,_"That's alright you can just tell me all about it now. It can't be that bad. "

"I...I didn't trip...I f.. ...you remember how the staircase rail was flat on the landings between floors? Well I was walking across it...like a tightrope." A slight grin pulled at the corner of his quivering lip.

"Why would you do that? Thrill seeking?...", Jason saw the twitch of his lip. "...no wait. It was a girl wasn't it? Hehehe. So you fell trying impress a girl ...that's not that bad."

Lance was shaking his head, "No...no I made it that time it was no biggie...Dad you should have seen her...she was prettiest sophmore..."

"Well, I hope she was worth it. But then how did you fall? " Jason had an idea he looking up Lance began.

"Her older brother...Todd Barker...biggest jerk in school...[yawn] he..he was always bullying me. He was huge...a jock...cornered me on the landing, said he didn't want some "freakboy senior" messing with his little sister...he took my backpack ..said I could have it back if I walked the rail again...no problem right?...[yawn]…and I did it again. Only when I reached the end...I heard "think fast"...and me and all my precious books went tumbling down...[sigh]...I said I t..tripped because..I don't know..I didn't want to be a freak and a snitch? [yawwn] [sigh]…but mostly..."

"Mostly to keep on good terms with the girl by not ratting out her brother? ", Jason shook his head smiling, " You never said was it all worth it? ", There was no reply just the weight of an nearly unconscious body leaned against his shoulder. The shivering was gone. And though he still felt hot to the touch...Jason was certain the fever would soon be under control.

"Go ahead...lay down." He watched as Lance stretched out on his stomach, diagonally across the bed. _..and when you wake up...I'll just be me again... _

Jason changed the bandaging. While most of the lashmarks were healing nicely, the area with the deepest gashes that overlapped, in the center of his shoulder blades, were still exceedingly raw and inflamed. He worked to clean the wounds and placed fresh clean bandages. _He can sleep..but he needs to take the antibiotics again..soon. Kinda wish he could stay all loopy...it was nice just talking ...like father and son ...relaxed.… You know there are all sorts of things out there that can do that..drugs… safer than a fever..more controllable too. Just a thought.. No.… I want him to __**want **__to talk to __**me **__,not his hallucination. _Finished with his first aid duties, Jason sat on the edge of he bed. He was tired. Forcing himself up he reached for the restraint that lay at the side of the bed, pulling Lances wrist into it. He repeated the process with one of his ankles. He wasn't going anywhere.

The older man stepped into the bathroom, splashed cool water on his face...he stared at his reflection in the small safety mirror. Looking at the laugh lines and softer edges he thought about how old he was getting. He rubbed his chin, _hmm need to shave, _His eyes pivoted up to his hair _more grey, but at least I'm not losing it. _Then he noticed the fine red scratches on his neck and one on his left temple. The mornings activity blazed across his memory. In flashes, he recalled how Craig had struggled for air. The look in his dark brown eyes when he realized that this time was for real..not for play. Part of him regreted the necessity to take out the kid. But, he was never anything more than a substitute...a pawn to be sacrificed at the proper moment. _But still...it might have been fun. Like when they were kids. _He suddenly felt the need to get clean. He jumped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the sins of the day.

He wrapped the towel around his trim waist..._may be getting older, but thats no excuse to let yourself go.. _During his time "away" he had made a point of staying strong and fit. Being able to best some bigger guys, meaner guys and weaker guys had made living a lot easier. _Besides Dad always said, " A soldiers best weapon was his mind, but it didn't mean anything if the delivery system was a piece of shit.." he was a miserable old son of a bitch, but he was right. _Nonchalantly, he walked through the living area, over to a large cabinet. He tapped a few buttons on the doors keypad lock, the door clicked open. He pulled the door open fully, with a slight push it glided into the side of the compartment tucked neatly out the way. He grabbed the remote and his laptop then sat down on the sofa. With the touch of a button the superthin high def screen slid out then rotated for optimum viewing from the seating area. He loved how completely intergrated the whole system was. You could do so much these days right from the comfort of home, even sit in nothing but a towel while you bank, shop, chat.._god I love technology! _ With a quick search he was in the fire departments database. The fire had been ruled accidental _faulty wiring plus leaking gas equals boom,_ two unidentified fatalities _how sad. _Let's see, how about my lovely dark haired artist, wonder what she's up to. Images of Angela taken at various moments flash across the screen, going into _that jerk _Booths home..walking out .._aw look how cute.. _kids in tow with some old guy. _Hmm wonder who he is? Later.. Bigger fish.._With a definate goal in mind he rapidly began tapping away, screens of numbers and code rolled by, then he had what he wanted. He watched with satisfaction as the account was drained of funds, and how each of his own numerous accounts filled. _Who needs to rob a bank, just learn a few tricks...hehe _ His "friendship" with that Pelant guy had been brief but highly instructive. _Of course he was a smug little shit...no matter he too served a purpose...glad they killed him...tried to kill my boy... guess he thought I'd do it for him...hhmm not if I can help it. _He yawned..it was only around eight in the evening, but it had been a long day. _Eight... better check the kid, needs the antibiotics. Something to eat would be good... _He opened a cabinet in the hall, grabbing some clothes which he pulled on right then there. He tossed the towel in the bathroom and entered the bedroom. Lances prone form lay motionless, except for the rise and fall of his shoulders with his heavy breaths. Jason sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out he was relieved to find, that while still warm, the level of heat emanating from his son was greatly decreased. He ran his hand through the soft short curls, …_just like I would when .. [sigh]…_

"Hey, wake up. You have to wake up...", Jason ordered sufficently loud enough to rouse the young man from his slumber.

Lance came to...through the grogginess he felt fingers working their way through his hair...it sent a chill across his spine. He jerked his head away, trying to roll away but found he couldn't. His right arm was held in place by a restraint...as was his left ankle. Panic set in. And like a wild animal he began struggling against them...

"Alright! Calm Down!", Jason leveraged his forearm across the back of Lances neck and forced his head into the mattress. "Calm down..or so help me I'll...I'll get the whip!" All movement ceased.

"That's what I thought...Dammit boy!" He sneered as released the hold with an annoyed shove.… _just for good measure… _" Remember…our deal. Now...I'm going to take those off...if you had given me a chance to before freaking out...you'd be out by now."

Lance sat up slowly...scanning his new surroundings...he had been in the front. He recalled getting really cold...everything hurting…then things got muddled. _I was talking to Dad … no that was a dream…_He felt flushed, but he shuddered as the movement stirred the cool air, nothing felt normal...he swore he could hear the sound of his heart pushing blood through him..it was an annoying thing...almost as annoying as the jittery sensation he experienced as he reached for the bottle of water and large white pills he was being told to take. _...fever..must have got pretty high...hhmm… _

"How do you feel?", Jasons asked so softly that for a moment Lance could almost believe it was a question born out of real concern but he knew not to believe in that... _he doesn't care about anyone…or how they feel… _

" I don't know...How do **you** think I feel?", Lance huffed annoyed. _That's right turn the question back on him… you're a shrink after all, plus it will annoy the shit out of him. Probably not the best thing to do...but the deal didn't say I had to be pleasant...just compliant... _

"Like being a smartass for one thing..so you must be feeling more like yourself.", _Hehehe _Jason smirked before continuing "I'd say you're pissed, angry, mad, sad...hurt...afraid?... You want me to keep going? I can." _Hehehe _He derived much satisfaction from the eyeroll and look of disgust his answer garnered. _This is fun..._

"No..no that... that about covers it. Thanks..", Lance replied tersely ,returning the sarcasm. _I'm also thirsty, achey and in need a shower. Food..eh. _He eyed the opening into the bathroom. He was completely free to get up. Or was he? He realized he hadn't done anything freely in so long. _I'll need permission...like a kid. May I be excused?...I hate this! But I need to go... _Lance must have stared in the bathrooms direction long enough to be noticed …_**he**__ notices everything… _because **he **stepped toward the hallway as if to leave. **He** paused in the doorway looking back.

"Go on ,..do what ever you need to. Just don't get those bandages wet. And don't take a hot shower...just got that damn fever down. Just "be good". If you need help...What!? …What's that look for ...wouldn't be like its the first time you asked "ol' Dad" to help you clean up…", Jason smiled, he couldn't help himself, he waited for a reaction and was rewarded with dark confused look of consternation.

_What the hell! I never asked __**him **__ to... __**he's **__a liar. Remember that __**he **__lies...now get a grip._

_"_If you're done nagging ...I know I can manage on my own...I don't need **you**.", Lances tone was cold and hard. He watched for a reaction, sure enough the smile disappeared. He knew the words would sting, that they might even cause **him **to become violent. But he didn't care. At that moment in time all he wanted was to hurt the man who had caused him so much grief and pain. And hurt flashed in the those blue-brown eyes, then anger.

"Keep that that attitude up and all you'll manage to do is get someone hurt.", Jason threatened coldly. " Now.. do what you're going to do."

Jason paced the woodfloor in front of the sofa rubbing his forehead…_so he doesn't "need" me, does he?… we'll see about that...he will be begging for my help... … Calm down!...He was just testing the waters...seeing what he can get by with, overreact and you'll lose him...stick to the plan. Won't be any fun..if he's dead. Just gotta give it time. He has too much hope right now ...time to instill some doubt._

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Soo, the roadtrip has begun, always nice to see some nice father/son moments...Where are they going? I have a few ideas...but I'm interested in what moments ..situations anyone else would like to see. Don't worry the team will get involved again ..soon. Just not yet.

Please read and review!


	17. Chapter 17 : I'll Manage

Thank you all who read, favorite, follow and review...

And here is Chapter 17 : I'll Manage...

Warning: nudity, strong language, and ...yeah that's all I've got. You've been warned.

Disclaimer I do not not Bones

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Despite the boasting about "managing on his own", Lance found each task painful, awkward and slow. The first problem was simple. Door_. Were was the freaking door, well doors, to the bathroom.…he removed the doors to the bathr... oh.. Lance slid the pocket doors closed. One to the bedroom, one to the hall. No lock. No latch. Just slide into place._ He looked at his reflection in the mirror. There were small healing scratches along his left cheek from the fall that had messed up the shoulder he was now so gingerly trying move. He was tired of being one handed, he didn't want his arm taped anymore. He decided to remove the tape from his shoulder and arm. It was loose anyway. It was an agonizingly slow ...painful.. process that seemed to take forever. If he could just be careful...take it slow. Air suddenly sucked through clenched teeth...followed by a slow staccato exhale through teeth clenched tighter still. Without the bindings support, the injured joint was once again a victim to gravity shifting suddenly. Ignoring pains pleas to stop, Lance slowly and deliberately... forced his left limb, straight down, until his violently trembling hand pressed against his leg. Motion halted, the grinding pain returned to a manageable level. But the exercise had left him panting, sweaty rivulets slideing down his cheek. Blinking the hot, blur of tears from his eyes. ..._damn.. .. _He buried his face into the crook of right arm leaning againt the wall to steady himself. A couple of deep breaths later he, resolved to "manage the pain". Holding the arm as still as possible he moved on to the next task. He felt unsure..._I need to do this..clean up...get stronger..you will feel better...and hopefully soon ...you will make it back...you can do this...prove __**him **__wrong... _Only losing his balance once, he managed to remove the sweatpants without too much pain inducing movement. Quickly, he entered the shower and pulled the heavy glass door shut. _Exposed...vunerable...get this over quick. _ He aimed the showerhead toward the wall, he turned on the water warm...warmer.. He fought the impulse to crank up the heat. _This isn't home... _Grabbing and removing the showerhead he carefully let the water run down his chest. Dropping his head forward, he held it close over him, letting the warmth soak through the curls to his head, streaming down his face, dripping from his lips, nose and chin. Eyes closed. He could have lost himself in that moment, the singular sound of the water pounding in his ears..the sensation as it ran down his features...but he didn't stay lost too long. Instead, he replaced the fixture so the spray hit the wall, while he used the mens all in one bodywash that was there to lather up best he could, without moving his left arm, without getting the soap in his eyes, without letting it burn its way into the still grated skin of his knee, without letting too much soapy foam run down his bandaged back. Without hesitation he grabbed the showerhead and rinsed off, more confident than when he started. He had managed quite well. Sure the shoulder was still a concern, but he could manage the pain. Opening the stall door, he grabbed the towel from the rack... and commenced drying off.

Bam!•Bam!•Bam!•Bam! Rapidfire knocking rattled the hallway door... Jasons voice boomed through the now slightly cracked opening.

"What's taking so long? You having troubles in there?!", The concerned tone wasn't enough to mask the contemptous "I told you so" in the mans voice. "Need help? Or are you still..."managing" all by your lonesome?"

Lance struggled to maintain a calm voice, but an uncomfortable fear had gripped him by the throat, choking him until all he finally managed was a panic strangled, " No!..No I'm fine!... I..I don't need any help!"

Making the agonizing choice to enlist the help of his left hand he quickly wrapped the towel around his hips. Pulling the shower door shut, he remained in the stall...hoping Jason would just leave him alone.…_ I did it ...I managed fine without __**you**__. So go away! I don't need __**you**__!... _Standing there, left arm tucked tightly against his side, right hand holding his shoulder he exhaled a sigh of relief when he heard the muttered , "Okay then...I can tell... you have everything under control...I'll leave you to it.." fade away along with footsteps. ..._Oh thank god... _He pushed open the glass door.

Relief was short lived. Anxious brown orbs explored the small room.… _my pants!..Where are my sweatpants?...where the hell!..Oh come on!…oh god..that means he must have...Dammit!.. _he slammed his fist into the decorative panelboard wall. It gave in easily, producing a satisfying shallow dent. His hand stung, but honestly he didn't care. He was tired. Tired of the pain and the "deal" and being caged ...of being afraid. _I hate this so...much! _ The second rounds right hook landed another deeper dent right beside the first...He was contemplating where the third blow should land when the hallway door slammed open. Lance didn't even look, he simply awaited whatever might happen next, eyes closed reddened knuckles still fiercely clinched into a fist. He was shaking, wether it was due to anger, fear or fever he wasn't sure.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing? ", Jasons cold eyes surveyed the damaged wall. He stopped just inside the room, _…well look at that, somebody got pissed off...hehehe..._

"What did you do with ...my clothes?", Lance muttered, still bracing for a punch, a smack ...something.

"Lost your clothes..hhmm? However will you manage? I don't know...I thought you had everything under control? You don't need me...remember?", Jasons conversational tone became filled with mocking cruelty as he continued. "But you need me now ..right? Good luck finding them...personally I find lounging in nothing but a towel quite enjoyable, hehehe.", That earned him a withering glare, he backed into the hall and walked away. "...Maybe you should give more consideration to what you say before you say it...Seems you are always pushing people away huh...shutting them out, hurting them, well that has its consequences Son!" Jasons voice floated back through the hall into the small room to Lance who was left staring at the empty space.

_Good luck? Good luck?! He can't be serious...I can't...in a towel?...ahhh! Now what?...What else?...Beg forgivness...just like when you were little. Nicely ask for your clothes back...Ugh! Not much else you can do. And what's he mean...push people away, hurt people...I don't hurt people...he does! ...Fine! _Lance took a tentative step toward the open hallway door. ... _it could still be a set up, he could be waiting ...what if he... _He listened for the slightest hint that Jason was lurking near. Hearing nothing he eased into the hall. He was annoyed and relieved to find Jason kicked back on the sofa.

"I..I'm sorry...", the words felt like vomit, spewing over his tongue "...I implied I didn't ...need you. I was .._right so totally right... _wrong. I didn't mean to hurt you.._of course I did.._ Can I please...just have my clothes? _...where the fuck are my clothes?... _Lance waited for a reaction. Something. What he got was nothing. Jason continued looking at the screen ignoring him.

"I was.. wrong. I apologize! ", Slightly louder, Lance tried to sound sincere. Still nothing. At this point Lance was growing impatient. _… I know you hear me…I'm apologizing what else do you want to hear unless… ugh. _

"Dad? Did you hear me? I..I'm sorry..", Lance hesitated as Jasons gaze shifted onto him. _...so you want recognition..fine..._ "..I won't say that again. Dad, I won't ... push you away." _… its a lie, he knows it… but if it makes him happy and gets my clothes, I will lie, lie, and lie somemore. _

Jason listened with satisfaction as the anger laden tones were replaced by the sweet sounds of placation.

"That wasn't so hard.. was it?", The older man reached down beside the sofa and tossed a cloth bundle that landed just short of Lances feet. " Get dressed... let me know if you need my help."

Lance snatched up the clothing and turned, pausing. " Thanks I'll.." the urge to say he would be fine, he'd manage, remained but he thought better of it. " Thank you...I will." ,He muttered meekly, then disappeared into the bedroom, sliding the door shut.

Clean clothes...his clothes. Dark navy blue sweatpants, grey v-neck tee, socks, even underwear! He could feel...decent. _…except for feeling dirty for what I had to say to get them… _Dressed from the waist down, he sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the grey shirt in his lap. With the adrenaline rush from anger and fear subsiding he was left feeling drained...and in pain again. Whatever pills he had taken earlier were wearing off. Combine that with all the commotion and stress. He felt a chill coming on.…N_ow what? What do I do now?… Do whatever it takes to survive...they are searching for you by now... surely.. _Lance was absentmindly massaging his left shoulder, while his thoughts continued to drift. _...They may be looking but they will never find you...No! Booth won't give up on me...we are friends, close friends... I have faith in Booth...So what, your not on the road...roadblocks are useless if your not on one. That's if they even know your in this crackerjack box on wheels. Looks like you will just have to "be good" ...a "good boy" again. You remember that ...right? What being a "good boy" was like. No..no.… _Lance was shaking his head in silent protest to the voice, ignoring how his nails were digging into his flesh. _…No that..that's not going happen… _ Hot pink lines were soon joined by scarlett streaks _… I will just have to save myself...If Booth can't find me.._ _I __**will **__find a way out... _

"How are you...Hey! Stop that! ", Jasons sudden appearance and twisting grip on his wrist, wrested the clawing hand away from his shoulder and Lance from his stupor. The startled young man stared up at him, wide-eyed and perplexed, wincing at the torquing of his wrist. Following the older mans gaze, he looked at the blood tinged lines etched into his skin then to his bloody nails.

"Why..do you do that?!", Jason shouted leaning in so close Lance tried to turn away. He continued amping up the pressure on the wrist.

"I...I..didnt. Didn't realize..", Lance was completely confused and panic-strickin.

"You never do... You think hurting yourself is going to hurt me?", came Jasons harsh indictment.

"What! No, no! I didn't even.. ahh..", Lance tried to explain but was cut off.

"Bullshit! You were always hurting yourself! ...You'd get your lil' ol' feelings hurt over nothing! ...Then you'd hurt yourself...tryin' to make me feel bad about it... ", Jason had the hand bent and twisted back, to the point he could feel the wrist on the verge of snapping. He heard the rushing breaths, the high pitch yelps he was trying hard to stifle, and stuttering pleas for mercy. …_Ignore all that... its all for show...see what he did ...he wants the pain..._He looked into those umber eyes and saw a look of fear and anguish he hadn't seen in years. …_her eyes...just the same…an he left you too...just like she did... break it._

"No..no..no ah..ah please Dad...don't! " ,In act of desperation Lance reached up with his left hand, the painful motion nothing compared to the immeditate agony he was suffering, resting it on his fathers shoulder, bowing his head breaking eye contact. "Stop...please Dad!...I'm sorry!..so so sorry!"

After what seemed like a silent eternity, Lance finally, felt the tension released, but not his hand. Jason continued to hold on, rubbing his thumb across the scratched, reddened knuckles. Not daring to look up, or even move Lance waited. Soon he felt hot breath on his neck then whispering in his ear.

" If this hand ... causes anymore harm ..to the things I care about.. My things...I will break it so bad it will never do anything again...understand?", Lance, never raised his head and nodded slowly. "Yes.." came as a barely audible whisper. Jason released his grip. Instinctively, Lance pulled the wounded wrist in close and cradled it in his other hand. He felt the hot stream of tears down his cheeks. …_I didn't even know I was doing it...How do I keep from doing somthing, I don't even know I'm doing?... _

…_Aww...why'd did ya let go!..I was finally having fun... _Jason stood in the doorway, torn, …_he needs my help...I didn't want...Hey, he's fine… better then fine. Bet he doesn't bust up your walls anymore..hehe... just another lesson. Looks like he's gonna need your help now... _

Lances shivering form flinched at Jasons touch. He listened to the soft spoken words..." let me help"..."you can't do things like this"... "I don't want to hurt you..." At that the young man lifted his eyes in awe, as he followed his fathers motions. He watched as he pulled the grey tee carefully manuvering it up his left arm, over his head allowing Lance to shove the newly sprained right hand painfully through the sleeve.

Done. Jason sat beside his son, who he could feel shaking. The fever was returning. Jason sighed a heavy exhausted sound, it was nearly midnight now, the first full day of their journey together would soon be at an end. He needed some sleep. They both did. Forcing himself up. He left, then returned. A couple of pills for the fever. And a little something for the pain...

Lance took the pills. Barely noticing the needle sinking once more into his arm. He was hardly aware of his movements to lie down on his right side still holding his wrist...maybe he was holding it? ...he couldn't be sure anymore. Like everything else..that too was getting lost in the darkness closing around everything...around him...he was getting lost._ ..hhhmm wonder if I'll manage to find a way back..._

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Whew... and there we have another chapter down. Sorry if it was fierce wretched ... then again maybe I'm not. Liked it? Hated it? Feeling emotionally ambivalent about the whole thing? Let it out..tell the little box all about it.


	18. Chapter 18 Learning Curves

Chapter 18: Learning Curves

If you are still reading this thank you. asic12 and sldovespandf15 thank you for the reviews.

Disclaimer: I do not own Bones

It was the high pitched creak and hiss of air brakes... that pulled Lance out of his dream into his nightmare. They were moving. He thought back to the dream.. it was a good one. He had been at the diner eating lunch, Booth and Brennen sitting across from him...bickering about well many things, like they always do. He enjoyed the playful banter...it reminded him of Mom and Dad. They could "bicker" endlessly, each defending their own stance but not offending the other...it was their way of having fun. That brought his thoughts down. Simple mundane moments had become the stuff of dreams. _…maybe I can just go back to sleep… _He closed his eyes, but the motion of the "bus" and sound of the brakes again, jarred them open once more. _… wherever we are must be mountains… _Lance felt the pressure change uncomfortably in his ears. Not seeing where he was heading ...amplified the feel of each curve in the road. The rocking motion... made for roadsick queeziness. He was pretty sure if he had anything on his stomach to lose he would have. But he hadn't eaten since the morning they left ..._that was yesterday right?… _Without windows...and drug induced sleeping he wasn't real sure how much time had passed. He sat up...no restraints. His wrist was purple and swollen, flexing it was agony. _…dammit… _He was completely free. The bathroom door was open. The one to the hall was shut. Sliding down to the end of the bed he stood. The vehicles motion and his own disoriented state led him to sway on his feet... forgetting himself, he stuck his right hand on the wall to steady himself "Ah ah..dammit!" _Don't do that! _He jerked the black and blue appendage back, coddling it gingerly with his left looked down for the doors inset handle..._ it should be right ...here..What the.. _He flattened his left palm on the cool smooth surface of the door, pushing back as hard as his shoulder would allow. The door panel didn't budge. He left it...and went into the bathroom. Here too the door to the hall was shut. Again he palmed the door and pushed..nothing. Locked in. He returned to the bedroom. It was very dimly lit by two accent lights. On the wall he found the slide switch that controlled the main lights and slid it to full on. He scanned the room. Aside from the bed there was a wall of long cabinet doors. He noticed a lack of hardware… no pulls, handles or knobs… He pushed one in, it didn't budge _…ok not springs or magnets...hmm… _He sat on the edge of the bed studying them. Nothing more to learn, he gave up. He was getting anxious. He did not like being locked up. _…Its okay..hey, at least it's not a closet...still.. _He looked around his bland cell. Its only large window had the same riveting treatment. The wallboard was a beige tone, the four cabinets a dark mahagony. There were four recessed lights and two recessed speakers in the ceiling overhead. He was scanning this list of his surroundings yet again, when it struck him. _...one of these things is not like the other... _The light nearest the hallway door wasn't exactly the same. It was slightly bigger. Different. He knew why. He shook his head. …_of course ..if my wrist worked I'd flip him off... wonder what he'd do? Hmmm...I wonder... _He didn't like being locked up, much less under observation. He had hated dealing with Pelants constant voyourism...this was worse. …_That feeling of being watched...someone getting off on knowing your every move...using that knowledge to play games with you...control you... _He sat legs crossed in the middle of the bed. Crossed arms tucked tightly as he gently rocked with the roads twists and turns. His mind continued its course .…_Pelants games...this was one of his final moves...had to be. He enlisted my own crazy father to ... Hehehe.. Oohhh and he's too dead to enjoy it! Funny. Should have known...he wouldn't give up. Not his style... Maybe if you hadn't have run away from the Bureau you could have helped them catch him sooner...but you ran away... like a frightened, embarassed kid... Everyone, knew it was my work...I heard the talk. "Agents died needlessly because of my little mind games...with Pelant"...and they shouldn't have died...I should have realized sooner...Yes, you should have..But you didn't and look how everything turned out... No. It's Pelants fault not mine..I'm not a fortune teller I couldn't know what he had planned...Is that why you ran away?..Why, you left your friends and the career you love behind?...Because you felt so "faultless"? ...You are just like your mother...you leave when things get too intense, too personal... you pull away... You never met her and you are just like her... That's not right...I help people. And my friends understand ...I just needed time. Right...and had Booth not dragged you back? If Pelant hadn't moved against Brennen?... You would still be in that youth center...well that's until that got to be too much... No,that's not true...You think Booth understands why you didn't call for three months...or Daisy, do you really think she understands why you dumped her?...not like either of them really know...the all things you've done.. Hmm? Ah well, none of that matters...your back with Daddy now! And everything he has done. He killed that boy... threatened Angela, Michael, Christine all of them ...he would hurt any of them!...Hmmm like father, like son? ...No, I wont let them get hurt...Oh so, you don't plan on breaking that deal and saving your own ass?... Because that's what you will be doing...No it wont come to that. They will find me before then ...I know it..." , _Lance had no way to drown out the thoughts...no thunderous screaming deathmetal beats, no patient rambling on about their issues, no life with all its nice distractions. So he listened, he protested, he plotted, he remembered. Time ticked by. How much? Not a clue. Then the gentle rocking became a series of stops, until there was a final stop. They were here. Wherever here was. He doubted he would get to see. No, he would remain hidden behind these walls. Waiting...

He picked the most secluded spot in the campground. Its dated facilities, remote location and nearly senile caretaker ensured the kind of privacy he wanted._ Pay in cash, for the other two nearby spots as well, tip generously... nobody will being bothering you_. Jason left the small main office smiling. He had made great time. Traffic was nonexsistant. This little dot on the map had been bypassed a decade ago, and the few tourist that came to this campground were only passing through on their way to more exciting venues. All they had here was a small fished out cold mountain lake. Yep this would be a good spot to lay low. They had all the time in the world. After all it wasn't the destination that was important but the memories you make along the way. Hehehe.. He tapped the entry code and the door clicked. Stepping into the motorhome he slid two heavy panels locking them, closing off the front driving area from the rest of the coach. _…No one can look in or out... _Curious, he opened the tv cabinet, when the screen lit up he was pleased to see he was awake. Sitting on the bed. Then he was surprised when he looked directly at the camera. Well glared really. …_so he figured that one out..hehehe...probably hears you in hear...wondering what you're up to... let him wonder a bit longer... _Jason touched an icon on his phone. A few taps later he was busy in the kitchenette. He had drove nonstop after catching a few hours sleep. Now he was starving. Beep. Chicken noodle soup...and a couple of sandwiches. He placed the meal on the small table at the booth. There. He tapped the icon again. The microwave display went black. There were muted clicks from the fridge and cabinet doors. _...kitchens closed..._ He strode down the hall. When he slid the door open he found his son still siiting on the bed.

"Wash up it's time to eat."

"Where are we?"

Jason smiled devilishly, "Nowhere. Now com'on ...unless want me to toss your food out."

Lance walked into the kitchenette area and slid into the booth. The earlier carsickness had been inpart due to extreme hunger. Now faced with food his stomach growled its approval. He gave a hesitant askant glance over to his captor.

"Well go on eat! That what its there for.", Jason said. Slideing into the seat across from him.

Grasping the plastic spoon was more difficult...and excruciating than he anticipated. The swelling and discoloration had crept further across the whole of his right hand and his fingers didn't quite flex as they should. …_just switch hands...no biggie... _The change to his left was awkward but he would learn to make do. Soon he was rewarded with a mouthful of the best tasting canned soup he ever had ..._food_. He kept his head down low to the bowl, which served two purposes. One, it kept shoulder movement to a minimum and two it avoided eye contact with **him. **Lance focused on the soup, as he thought about how to tackle the sandwich. When he did, luckily it was halved which made the task easier. He took half of the half in one huge bite. Trying to devour it before the ham with lettuce and tomato fell apart. He was chewing away oblivious to anything but the process of feeding himself. Hunger making him rush and injury making it difficult.

"Do you always eat like pig with its head in a trough?, Lance looked up at the man sitting across from him...his food untouched _…Watching me … _

"Um no… (swallows hard) only when I'm being held captive, starving and have limited use of my hands...", That was a snarky reply he knew it but ..._screw him_. Jason just gave him a hard look then dug violently into his soup. … _that's right run that smartass mouth…someday you'll learn... _The only sounds for the next few minutes were of slurpping, sipping, and chewing. Jason finished, tossing his paper napkin in the soup bowl. He sat back satisfied.

"Oh I, almost forgot.", Jason fished something out of his pocket. Lances phone clattered on the table. Lance swallowed the last bite, eyeing the device then up to its bearer. He sat up, dubious of Jasons intentions.

"You have an important message from your pal Booth. Actually, received it early yesterday, but ..Hey better late than never. Go ahead see what your good friend has to say." , Just as the young man started to reach out with his left hand, Jason put his hand over the screen. "Oh wait ...don't want to strain that shoulder. Here we'll just hit.. speaker. There we go... " Jason beamed as the recording began playback.

**" Hey there Sweets, look I really hope you are enjoying your little trip with Agent Hawkins. We found another body, another kid like you...Sweets..Cams autopsy results showed his arms were slashed...She told us, how you tried to commit suicide in high school?...Sweets! You sliceded open your arms hoping to bleed out..Well this was one Hell of a way for me..all of us to find out...You remember the things I opened up to you about. You and Bones, thats it Sweets! ...And in all this time you couldn't afford me the same kind of trust...All this stuff...this awful crap that I..we are learning ...Man, I know its gotta be tough sometimes, but that's what friends are for right? I don't know...maybe we aren't as close as I thought..Maybe that's why you left? ..didn't keep in touch? Huh, and look, shit hits the fan and wouldn't you know.. you're gone again...Maybe that's the answer.. maybe you should just leave, transfer ...something...that way you can avoid facing up to your past and how it affects you and how you've treat your so-called friends! ...Alright..I'm done..call the Bureau there are questions we need you to answer..."**

All the color drained from his face as Lance listened to Booth. …_he killed another kid? Like me?..He slashed...oh god that means... They all know now..and Booth your mad, I never told you...I just..just couldn't ...What? No..I don't want to leave...we are friends, I just needed time..I'm sorry.._

"Well damn if that's wasn't harsh. What's that guys problem?...He seemed pretty upset with you. I thought you two were buddy buddy? What's wrong? Don't like hearing a little truth..."

"That wasn't Booth...well it was but you edited it, to make it sound... Booth knows I trust him. I just..couldn't .." ..._see I said he didn't understand...you screwed up...again... _Wether he was aware he of it or not, Sweets arms had formed the familiar crossed hug beneath the tables surface. Slumped shoulders slightly rocking back and forth in the tight confines of the booth. "If that was Booth then it was a just gut reaction to... hearing something he wasn't prepared for...he often reacts before he has taken the time to consider everything ... I bet there is another call countering much of that." His voice was desperately hopeful...

"Well, yeah there is one more ...short message." Jason tapped the screen again.

**"Sweets! Check your damn phone!...Brennen and Hodgins are looking at two new bodies. We are here doing our job, where are you? Ignoring us! You don't want us to find you.. fine! "**

"No,no,no that is not what he said. You screwed it up...just like Pelant would." Sweets decried shakeing his head.

"I did nothing...those are the actual messages. Now you see why I thought you might need to hear them. Pushing people away all the time has ..consequences. Now see, Agent Booth, I'm sure he meant well...figured he could be like a big brother...look out for ya. Because your so close.. And he has done a good job up til now...saved your ass that day in the street. Although.. if you think about it, had he left you in the office..not dragged you out in the field. You would never have met Pelant to begin with."

"That's not true...I worked at the FBI. Pelant was targeting the Bureau already..

"The Bureau...not you. How long would it have taken them to find Pelant without your profile...and your insistence you were right? Chris told me all about it Lance. Pelant liked to talk...He said that he knew from the moment you asked about all the old computer hardware lying around that you knew it was without doubt him. He didn't fool you like he had all the others... finally the games could begin. And you led him to the Jeffersonian team...your insights into each of them. Pelant he was a genius with technology Lance.. but crap at reading people. Going against the brain trust that is the Jeffersonian meant he needed to understand them..their motives, reactions. He said without your profiles on your friends and collegues his plans wouldn't have had the outcomes they did. Oh well, I for one am glad he didn't get all the outcomes right. I'm glad Booth was there to save you...that time. And how did you repay the guy...by skipping out.", Jason could see the wheels turning behind those big brown eyes. …_he is deciding how much of this is true. Hehe sad part kid, is that most of it is. I may have...reworked the second one but that first message...that's all Boothy!..._

"Doesn't matter. They will know I'm missing...and eventually they will find me. And you...", Lance pushed aside his surfacing doubts and hurt.

"I wouldn't be so sure of that.", Jason casually picked up the phone, leaving the booth to walk over to the tv cabinet which he opened. When the screen lit up it was paused on a WJLA 7 news broadcast. Lance recognized the bleach blonde anchorwoman from the DC areas local news. Her frozen features reanimated when Jason pressed play.

**"… and in local news, firefighters responded to a house fire on Cora Harris Street in the early morning hours. The old victorian which was once owned by the Cora Harris ,for whom the street takes its name, was completely engulfed by the time they arrived. Fire Marshalls confirmed there were two fatalies...Those persons identities have yet to be disclosed.. While, the fire itself was ruled accidental...faulty wiring and leaking gas... It is as yet unclear wether it was the cause of the deaths. ...the FBI has begun an investigation. What a shame...Do you like puppies and kittens? Up next the rescue of the we.."**

*** **click * the screen went black.

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_Thank you so much for reading my lil story._

_Please be kind and review if only so I will know you are out there.._


	19. Childs Play

Chapter 19: Childs Play

A little fun with the kiddies is in order.

To those who read Thank You! And those who review..Extra Thanks

I do not own Bones

"Hahaha hehehe ah hee heee ", Christine laughed happily as the mass of strawberry scented bubbles floated away on the breeze. One small, sticky fist firmly held a half-eaten wedge of watermelon, which she absentmindedly nibbled on between bubble nirvana producing huffs of air. The other gripped the the drippy, soapy wand. She needed more ammunition and skipped over to her grandfather who held the "no mess" bottle whilest she reloaded. Michael Vincent marched up impatiently fidgeting for his turn. Once both were well armed they blew in tandam producing volly after volly of bubbles. Giggling maniacally Michael ran through the barage, waving his arms ,in bubble popping heaven.

"Mikal stop! Mine!..Humph! ", Christine pouted as she turned to get more bubble stuff. Fully loaded she took aim and blew with all her might at her target who was fast approaching. Michael sputtered a bit as a large soapy sphere popped against his chin. Several other rounds landed along his arms and chest. Otherwise unharmed, he laughed and ran past her to Maxs outstretched hand. Bubbles! Glorious bubbles! The children continued there play blissfully unaware of the turmoil their caretakers were trying to contain.

Max sat with his back against the picnic table, maintaining his post as "bubble bottle bearer", he watched their playful bubble battle rage on. Occasionally he would glance over at Angela who was sitting at the other end, on the opposite side. Propping her chin on her hand she silently ...intermittently, witnessed their play. Max noticed how she flashed brief smiles in the childrens direction, forced smiles meant to reassure, "yes..I see you there...I love you " type grins. But the smiles were short lived. Quickly replaced with the faraway look she had adopted the last day or so. Max had hoped a little fresh air in the park might lift her spirits. _Its going take more than this I guess. Hhm..looks like we might need to pack up soon. Starting to look dreary in the distance... _

_"_Okay kids...last time.", he offered the bottle once more. Their hurry to each be first caused a bit of a tussle resulting in a sudsy spill spotting his pants at the knee. Max shook his head laughing _...ah well, you're not having fun 'til you've made a mess..._ As the kids ran around arms outstretched letting the wind encircle them in bubbles, he closed the bottle and stood up preparing to pack the small cooler.

...bapbapbapbapbap...bapbapbapbapbap...bap..bap...

Red! Bright red...covering Maxs chest and splattering across his neck. He flinched with each hit, then dove toward Christine who was still standing in the open as more shots were fired.

...bapbapbapbap... Before he could reach her, she fell to the ground in a balled up heap, hands over her ears ,screaming and crying. When Max rolled the terrified child into his arms all he could see was the wet red spot marring the pretty floral pattern of her pale yellow dress. He cradled her in his arms as she continued her crys for Daddy and Mommy. His attackers laughs caught his attention. Looking up he saw two figures running, fast ,toward a wooded pathway. Each wore black jeans, camo jackets and a protective helmet with skull facemask. Like off one of those military video games of Parkers. One of the creeps even paused long enough to turn and shrug as if saying oops!, waved goodbye, then disappeared into the trees. Despite his urge to go after them, Max returned his attention to his grandaughter who had calmed her crying to quiet snivelling. Looking for Michael Vincent he found him in the arms of his mother. He too had red splatterd across his shoulder and cheek, which Angela was wiping away between hugs and kisses. Michaels flushed face was streaked with tears but he seemed more mad than sad or hurt. Max stood Christine up, checking for any injuries. Finding none he hauled himself up from the grass. Picking up the child, he joined Angela and Michael beside the picnic table. He grabbed a couple of napkins and a bottle of water and proceeded to clean the red paint splatters off the little girls neck and chin. She was still whimpering and even "ouched" when he wiped at the blood red spot on her dress. _...I need to let Tempe check her out. What a couple of creeps! There was a time I would have chased them down...and...yeah they better be glad...paintball jerks!... S_atisfied he had done all he could to the stains, he gave Christine a kiss on the forehead asking if it made it any better. She nodded a pouty yes then kissed his cheek poking his own red splotched chest with a tiny finger. " You betta too?". He was nodding, when she suddenly strained to look around his shoulder, blue eyes full of concern.

"Mikal! Mikal you ok? Mommy make you betta, too?", Max let the squirming girl slide out his arms to run to her friends side.._...just like her Mother... _Michael nodded to Christine but his teary sapphire eyes never left his mamas face, she was crying and mumbling to herself, frantically wiping away at his already clean cheek.

"Mama! Mama...its okay Mama! Don't cry...", in a move as tender as any could be, Max witnessed as Michaels small hands found Angelas cheeks, leaning in as close as he could the young boy whispered into his mothers ear. "I'm okay...it's okay. I love you Mama..please...please don't cry..." Soon he was smothered in his mothers warm embrace...her crying abating into subdued sobs, as she clung to her precious boy.

Letting them have their moment, Max coaxed Christine away with another go at the bubbles, with much less enthusiasim she sat on the tables bench, while he quickly packed the cooler. Once that was done he collected the toddler in his arms.

"Angela?, Angel we need to go now ...okay?", He said firmly but ever so gently.

Hugs released, Angela stood up, Michael taking her hand, together they walked behind Max and Christine to Angelas minivan. Max thought about reporting the incident, but decided he would just rather get everyone outta there. Christine wanted her mother and he figured Hodgins would be the best bet for Angela._...to the Jeffersoninan then... _The paintball strikes on his chest ached. _..definately going to have a few bruises..sure hope Christine checks out okay... _Max shifted his eyes to the small backseat mirror just under the rearview mirror. Grandpas Lil' Sweetheart was asleep. _… getting shot takes a lot out of ya of that's for sure... _Michael Vincent was almost out too.

That's when he noticed it. The plain grey sedan...about two cars back. He had noticed a similar car on the way to the park. _… is it the same? Could be...but could just be people going to the park same as us from Tempes neighborhood...it happens. Hmm... then again... _Max checked on Angela, who just like the kids had nodded off. _Good. _Instead of his usual left at the next light Max decided to go right..._let's just see_. He shifted lanes pulling up to the red light. The grey sedan eased in behind the car behind him. Max could feel the rush of anticipation build. _… one change that could still be coincidence, but if they follow us through the next then...that's no coincidence… _Max drove in the right lane then shifted suddenly into the left lane coming up to the next street light...he watched the small grey car.…_come on, come on ...follow me!… _But the car stayed right, making the turn and faded from his view. He couldn't make the plate due to a large van making the right turn so close to them. …_Huh, maybe I'm losing my touch...going soft..could've sworn..oh well, better get going…_ Max Keenan made a u-turn and headed toward the Jeffersonion, relieved he had been wrong this time.

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"You understand Agent Booth...I'm not removing you from the case, but ,you need to take a day or two...until then Agent Mettes will handle everything." " Don't worry Booth...I understand what its like losing a co-worker...how you can be too close to a case..." "… Booth this is not a request..." Seely Booth was still sitting in his driveway, where he had been for the last ten?… twenty minutes? Watching the the rain pelting his windshield. Thinking about how his day had gone from already crappy to crappier. He couldn't argue with the reasons the Deputy Directer had given for "allowing " him time off. He couldn't remember the last time he slept, ate? Rubbing his hand across his face he caught his reflection in the rearview mirror... _yep, I look like crap_. Then he caught sight of the corner of the box of videos peeking out from under the FBI jacket Angela had tossed in back. _The tapes...the flashdrive...crap.. _In the rush of events on the day of the fire he had forgotten about them.

Booth carried the box into his study and deposited it on his desk. _…Sigh…better me then that jerk Mettes… _Booth removed his tie and cast off his dark jacket, tossing it into the recliner. Lying on top of the stacks of VHS casettes was the blue glove Bones had pulled over the flashstick. Making a point to not touch the black plastic he inserted the memory device into his laptops usb. _…Its a risk...no telling what it could do...could fry the whole system..nah, this was left to be watched, besides Angela isn't going to be able to help and no way this goes to the Bureau yet...so… _Booth watched nervously as the screen went white …_oh no… _But then a black outline of a mans profile popped up, then a shadowy figure walked to the middle of the screen Hitchcock style, turning to face the viewer his identity was clear. _Pelant. _Booth fought the urge to punch the screen. _…He's dead, you got him… yeah but not before he could pull this shit off..._

"Good evening, Agent Booth... , let me take a moment to explain what your about to see. You know Agent Booth... I was rather disappointed with your incredible since of timeing. You have a superlative knack for ruining my plans. But that is okay. After all it is part of the game. I realize that my attempt to use ...what am I saying , after viewing all the hours of video, going through all those files, then befriending his father, a remarkablely clever gentleman I might add...I feel comfortable dropping the formalities. My attempt to use **Lances ** work against, him while somewhat effective...lacked the personal touch I afforded previous endevours. I apologize..So I went back to the drawing board and came up with something a bit more... fitting. Don't worry, I haven't forgotten about you.. Temperance. But this is about finishing what I start...so **Lance ** if you're watching this, though if all went as expected your not, but if you are. You're a star kid! Haha. All joking aside...your Dad was quite the videophile, so after a lot of editing I hope you appreciate, what I feel captures ...the epitomy of Lances life with Daddy. Enjoy." Pelants face with his disfigured lips stretched into a lurid smile faded from the screen.

Booth hit the pause icon, he took a minute to clear his mind of all the anger ...rage, he was feeling at that moment.… _I need to relax… focus… sigh… okay. _Booth clicked play. He wasn't sure what he expected. The first few moments looked to be taken in a park, maybe? There was bright green grass, clear blue skies, and Sweets, a small, kid with a halo of brown curls, standing with his arms wrapped around the neck of the blonde woman with the blue eyes and kind smile, Karen, she sat on a blanket on the ground. It was a picnic. Karen was telling "Honey", to "… forget about the camera and come eat!". A few camera adjustments later Jason Andrews joined them. He was a picture of happiness, with a wide relaxed smile that caused his dimples to show. Booth was annoyed by how much that smile reminded him of his friends. The trio had a merry meal, laughing, talking. Jason affectionately kissing his wife "… the food was great Honey, right Lance?..Mama's a great cook… ", the boy nodded still gnawing on a drumstick. Mealtime over, the scene shifted, Karen and Lance , were each on a swing, Lances short legs barely allowing his toes to scrape the ground, " Push me, Daddy! ", slight banter about doing it yourself, a few feeble attempts at kicking and rocking without success, laughter, then "Alright...alright, its obvious you need my help.", chuckling, concerned whispering , "Don't push him too high, you get carried away..." "You worry too much, he'll be fine...", handing over the camera to the wife. Jason took the swing by its heavy chains and began a slow back and forth action until its passenger was high enough to easily shove by his back. The kid loved it … "Higher!". Mama hated it. "Careful...oh. Not so high!...Jason!". Daddy just laughed and laughed. Booth felt sick. He had played out that scene more than once with Parker._ Parker would say "higher" too, he knew I would never let him get hurt, he loved and trusted me to be there … to catch him. _Again Booth hit pause. He looked up to see Max standing in front of the desk. _When did he get here? I must be tired … didn't even notice… _

"Uh, hey Booth, you're home early.", …_They sent you home huh?… _Max stepped up beside Booth and leaned against the desk. " If there's anything you want to talk…"

"Thanks Max… you've been a tremendous help. ", Booth interrupted rubbing his temples ,"But I'm kinda … [yawn] in the middle of something so… [yawn]." Booth looked at his father-in-law. "Hey what's all over the shirt?"

"Oh its just red paint, a couple of jerks playing war games got to chalk up some civillian casualties.

"Christine! Was she…",

"She took a shot to the tummy… " , Max held up his hands to halt Booths questions "Relax she's fine, she was frightened… but Tempe checked her out Booth. She will have a bruise but she'll be fine. Angelas boy Michael took one to the shoulder, tough little guy. Those punks were lucky I had the kids or else I would've found them and … well you know. I dropped Christine, Michael, and Angela off at the Jeffersonian. I tell ya Booth… that paintball episode didn't help her at all. Anyway, Tempe said she and Christine were going to take Angela home, stay with her for awhile. Maybe with both Angelas husband and bestfriends support she will feel better. I offered to have supper waiting ...so here I am.", Max looked into his son-in-laws bloodshot eyes, under half open lids. "So you going to tell me why your here… they didn't kick you off the case did they? "

"No… well not really. Said I needed to take a couple of days...get some rest." Booth huffed.

"Huh, well if it makes you feel any better...they're right. You're a mess." Max scolded gently as he glanced at the laptops frozen screen. _Hmm _" Look Booth, you are no good to anyone like this. Especially my daughter and granddaughter. Or your friend...whatever happens, however this turns out, you have to take care of yourself … so you can be there when they need you. Now… I'm going to get supper started, you need to go… grab a shower… catch a few zzzs." Max turned the laptop away from Booth. "All this will still be here… now go… Christine deserves to see you, not still smelling of smoke and eyes all red.", Max was relieved and surprised, Booth didn't put up an arguement …_he must be tired… _Brennens Dad strolled into the kitchen, while Booth made his way up the stairs. He made abit of noise with the large pot, filling it with water before letting it land with a metallic thunk on the heavy burner of his daughters top of the line Viking stove. He placed the heavy guage suace pan on the stove in a similairly loud manner. " Max! Could you take it easy on the pots and pans ...geesh!" Came from the top of the stairs. Max grinned to himself ..." Sorry… they slipped… promise I'll be quiet!", _…Very quiet… _Max hurriedly tossed the ingredients to his marinara in the sauce pan. It would take about an hour simmering for the flavors to reach perfection. He snatched a bag of frozen meatballs from the freezer …_Tempe may be content with marinara, but Booth would need more … _scattered them on a heavy aluminum sheet pan, set the oven timer …_forty-five minutes … _and slid them on in. Upstairs he heard… nothing. No more shower, no more footfalls ..silence. He checked the flame under the sauce, gave it a stir, and replaced the glass lid. _…now, I've got some time to kill...so..." _Max made a beeline back to Booths study. Where he found Booth sitting behind the desk. His dark hair in damp wet spikes, his white tee was likewise damp, …_well at least he took a shower… _

"Booth! Wait how?...", Max was impressed, embarassed and disappointed all at the same moment.

"I was a sniper Max… stealthy. Look I'm tired… "

"And that's why you should be upstairs...getting some rest.", Max interrupted.

"Right...so you can come in here. Snooping?.", Booth sighed " Max what are you up to? "

"Fine..you got me. I was coming in here...to watch your home movies. I heard a kid laughing, Parker right? I've got time...so I just thought I'd take a peek...Where's the harm.", Max watched Booths pained expression.

"Max...cut the crap, please.", Booth implored

"Alright... Look, for the last couple of days... you and Tempe.. you're both a couple of zombies. Angela is ..is in such a bad place right now... And all I can do is sit on the sidelines...babysitting. And I love helping out with Christine...you know I do. But Booth... I can't idly sit by while my daughter works herself to death...and you. I just thought maybe if I knew more.. I could help somehow. Look if nothing else...I can maybe offer perspective."

"I don't know...this, all this , is official...",Booth was staring at the desk covered in files. _I've been through everything...well except the tapes.. maybe.._"You know what ...you want to help..But honestly ...Max... I'm not sure...if...it even matters..."

"What are you saying...Booth. ",Max sat down on the end of the sofa. He had never seen the man in front of him ever...give up.

"Nevermind..."

"No...you've got a lot going on inside...I know I'm not your first...Hell not even your last person you want to talk to...but I'm here. So let it out."

"Huh..yeah you know you're right...the first person is Bones...but, she has enough of her own stuff to deal with...and the second person...well that's the problem isn't it.", Booth paused taking a moment to beathe, to steady his voice against the emotions threatening to escape. " Everything is pointing in one direction... that that person... is gone. I mean I know ...rationally I should wait for the test results, give Bones time to make a clear ID... maybe.. I know that...but Angela was there she knows they were there...There were two bodies... The truck was still there...That damn gold watch..his adopted dad, his "real Dad " gave it to him...he always had it on. So ... what's the point ..why figure out how..when. I already know who and the outcome. Maybe it's best if I just ...let Agent Mettes close this out."

"Come on Booth... you can't think like that. When I walked in earlier, you were watching something… to do with all this right? So why? If there's no point ... would you push yourself? Because deep down you know you owe it to your friend to know...everything. Even if it makes you uncomfortable. Or mad. Or sad. Its what you and Sweets did ...find the truth. So find his truth. I meant it when I said I want to help. So let me. You want to talk.. whatever... I'll be here. "

" You're right..I owe it to Sweets. And that's why I'm going finish this.", Booth turned the laptop back around. He watched Max start to leave."Hey...uh you can stay... [yawn] I don't know ...maybe, you will see something I might miss [yawn]… "

"Sure Booth...", Max gave Booth a slight, meaningful half-grin. He understood how hard it was for a strong man like Booth to admit he needed someone to be there for him...especially him. Despite their past, the mistrust..the hard feelings, Max felt like now more then ever his family needed him. And Booth, his son-in-law needed him.,"… anything to help."

Max pulled a chair up beside Booth. With the click of the play icon the room was once more filled with a small boys laughter.

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Now wasn't that fun?

Thank you for reading and reviewing, hint, hint, I love reviews.


	20. Chapter 20: Games We Play

**Chapter 20: Games We Play**

**Hello, yes this update has taken a while... sorry, pesky real life keeps intruding on my imaginary world.**

**If you read PLEASE REVIEW, it will result in quicker updates... no seriously it probably, most likely, possibly will... **

**Thank You for hanging in there, for reviewing, favoriting or following. **

**Now on a serious note..this chapter is um uglier than some of the others... violence. **

**I do not own Bones Fox and Kathy Reiches do **

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Max and Booth watched silently as the images on the screen shifted from one seemly innocent scene to the next. Holidays and outings. In each smiles and laughter. Typical home movies. Eventually the filming became less and less tied to specific events. Replaced by candid recordings of daily life, scenes shot from static points of view. Booth thought back to Ms. Roses words, "security company" and "stolen equipment". _…he taped his own family, sick... _ Booth recognized the living room of the Andrews residence. The large tan couch, the braided rug, coffee table and the wall of shelves with its books, pictures and mementos. Virtually no different then the dusty version he saw a few days ago.

**"Come on, look at the board. Now think what's my next move going be...now make your move.", Jason said coaching the young boy who was studying the chessboard between them on the coffee table. Sitting on the floor, Lance perched on his knees as his arms leaned on the edge of the table. He gnawed his bottom lip as his large brown eyes scrutinized the pieces left on the board. He tilted his head to the side, eyes flitting up to his opponent, his small hand reaching for his white Knight then hesitating. Something becoming suddenly clear, he glanced once more at his father before moving his Rook instead, taking out the black Queen and setting up check, with mate soon to follow. A sly smile snuck its way across the boys face. He had won... again. Andrews was laughing. A proud parent. **

There was a scene break then the video opened once more in the living room. Booth noticed that it seemed a little disheveled. Newspapers scattered on the end of the couch, a couple of dirty bowls and glasses cluttered the end tables. He watched closely as Jason sat on the couch setting up the chessboard once again. Along with the board was a heavy glass ashtray in which a small cigar was slowly smoldering away. Beside that a glass with a couple of fingers worth of amber liquid, which Andrews sipped at once he had everything set up for the game.

**"Com'on boy, let's play!", Jason called out. Soon a somewhat reluctant Lance appeared from the hallway. He hovered a few feet into the room, obviously dressed for bedtime in an oversized tee shirt of his dads. He was yawning and rubbing his eyes... looking at his father in confusion. "Com'on... let's play, I think I'll beat ya this time. Hehehe" he took a drag off the cigar.**

**"I'm tiirred..I'm goin to bed. I don't wanna play.", He whined. **

**"Oh com'on, just one match then I'll tuck you in." , Jason proffered.**

**"Fiinne." The young boy sat in the same kneeling position beside the dark stained coffee table, the ivory white chess pieces in front of him. The game progressed, several moves and yawns later nearly half the pieces were gone. In a clumsy manner Andrews hand slammed into the lineup of captured pawns and knights. Instinctively, Lance turned to pickup the scattered pieces from the floor. When he turned back to the game, he stared hard at the field. Then up to his father who quietly waited for him to make his next move. With a slight shrug he moved a Pawn. Jason made his move. Then stretched his leg out, in doing so he bumped the table causing the captured pieces to once again land on the braided rug. The boy once more crawled around, picking up the pieces. As he did Jasons hands moved above the board. The kid replaced the pieces then turned back to the gameboard. It was his turn. Again he stared at the board, then to his dad and back again. But this time he folded his arms over his chest. Shaking his head, beneath furrowed brows he glared suspiciously at his father whose hazel eyes gleamed behind a haze of smoke. **

**"Something wrong...its your move..." ** Max hit pause. He needed a break and to check the food. Booth didn't seem to mind a break too and followed along into the kitchen to grab a drink. The doorbell rang . Booth opened the door and was surprised to greet Hodgins.

" Hey Booth, uh you're here...they kicked you from the case huh?", Jack guessed as he passed by an annoyed Booth.

"No..just needed to take a day...to refresh. So what are you doing here? I figured you'd be helping Bones with Angela." Booth said following "the bug guy" into the kitchen.

"Yeeah. Angela seems more comfortable with your wife right now... then me... so Brennen is going to stay there tonight. I thought I'd give them some space, offered to come get her stuff..she said she has a bag she keeps packed? For short notice trips or eme..."

"Oh uh yeah. I'll get it ..." Booth left up the stairs.

" So hey Max, um thanks for everything you've done...keeping Angie company and the kids."

Max finished stirring the marinara, replaced the lid then looked up at Hodgins. The younger mans eyes were tired from work and worry. " No problem, hey have you ate... soon as the pastas done Booth and I are going to eat. You're welcome to join..there's more then enough"

"I was just gonna grab something, but yeah...Angie, Brennen and the kids, were talking about ordering take-out, so count me in. Thanks."

"Alright here you go. I got a bag for Christine too.", Booth walked in eyeing the red haired entomologist currently parked on one of the stools at the counter.

"Okay, thanks. Uh Booth your father-in-law invited me to dinner...if that's okay with you?" Hodgins smiled cautiously. Booth seemed truly tired and he didn't want to impose. But he did have something else he wanted to speak to the agent about. Hodgins noted how Booth seemed to actually ponder the idea. Looking into the study thoughtfully and to Max, who seemed to ignore him as he checked the pasta. Finally, sighing heavily, he made his way to the fridge. Booth extracted a couple of brown bottles and offered one to Hodgins who accepted it. He could use a nice, cold beer. The trio sat and stood in relative silence until Max pronounced dinner was done. They each fixed their plates and headed into the dining room. They ate in relative silence. Each lost in his own thoughts. Each tired and worn. When the meal was done Booth started to get up, Hodgins broke the silence.

"Hey Booth...I need to ask. Did..um do you know if Sweets had..has renters insurance or a will maybe." He hated asking but it was the only shot he had at the information he wanted. Booth, sat back down, giving the man a confused look.

"Yeah...why?", Booth was reminded of the next grim task he might have to carry out. Executor of Sweets estate. He remembered how he had joked about the psychologist being too young to worry about such things, when Sweets approached him about it. " _I don't have any surviving family, Booth, and our work has...risks. If it's asking too much ..I understand." _Booth had signed the paperwork figuring he would never have to fulfill the promise. _Damn._

" There may be something in there about his watch. I want to know everything about it.", Hodgins tried to sound matter of fact, but he was grasping for anything he could find to prove the body wasn't Sweets. That Angela was wrong, she wasn't too late and they needed to find him. _...I promised... _"If he had insurance maybe it was appraised..I don't know there 's just something I want to look into." He tried to not give any false hope.

"Sure, whatever you need to know...I'll look into it." Booth said as he left the dining room.

Hodgins turned to Max who was sipping the last few drops from his glass of red wine.

"Is it just me or does it seem everyone has just accepted that Sweets is gone? I mean we don't know for certain...yet. Something about this fire just doesn't feel right to me... I'm going through everything again. Maybe the fire department missed something. I need to prove it to Angie...to everyone..", Jack Hodgins voice broke slightly and his lashes filled with moisture. "...I just need...need to repay him for saving Angela...you know? "

Max listened intently as the man before him opened up, it was obvious he hadn't _ ...then who would he talk to? Angela? No...poor guys been holding everything in... _So.. he let him talk.

Hodgins straightened up, clearing his throat and the rising emotion away. He turned up the brown bottle and finished off his beer. He stared at it, lost in thought, peeling the label. Then a pained smile appeared.

" You know...the last time I spoke to Sweets...I was.. was so mad with him. I know he had to hear it..the way I spoke, huh.", he was shaking his head. " I thought he had just left Angela behind... when really, he had saved her..."

"You didn't know the truth. He was a smart guy, I'm sure he understood. So you have doubts huh?", Max wondered

"I don't know, something just seems wrong...but hey, I display strong distrust of government institutions that boarders on obsessive,...maybe I just want them to be wrong." he said grabbing the bottle and plate then leaving for the kitchen. Max followed. Together they joined Booth in the study. The agent was looking through a file folder, he extracted an official looking contract, which he flipped through, pausing to study a page. He looked up at Hodgins.

" There is this...a list of valuables. Description, appraised value...Let's see...here watch, gold, whoah! " Booths tired eyes opened wide for a moment.

"What? Something special?" Hodgins asked excitedly. Special, different, unique...those words were music to his ears.

" Yeah...well I don't know. Says 1930's 18 karat gold...10 jewels...Gruebner..appraised value $4,000.00? He never said it was valuable, well except for sentimental...man.", Booth meant to hand the page over to Hodgins who stood beside him now, but Hodgins wasn't focused on the paper instead he was staring at the image paused on the screen.

"Booth. Is that...is that Sweets when he was a kid? What is this?",Hodgins asked, absentmindedly accepting the offered paper.

"Uh yeah, a.. a surprise ..left by Pelant... Andrews home videos. " ,Booth spat the words out then stabbed at the play icon.

**"...it's your move.", Jason insisted his tone becoming harsh and impatient, he blew another cloud of cigar smoke across the board. The young boys glare intensified. " I don't want to play anymore. I just wanna go to sleep!", his voice was tired, whiny and tinged with undisguised anger. "I quit..you win." He said starting to get up. **

**"Quit!?", Jason bellowed viciously, leaning forward causing Lance remain where he was , " What's the matter? You afraid ya gonna lose...so ya just gonna quit!? Are ya some little loser!...A quitter?". The boys frowning face was flushed pink and tears streamed down his cheeks. He stood up his small hands forming fists at his side.**

**"I'm not a loser!...You're...you..", he stammered over what he was about to say. **

**Jason sneered, taunting the boy, "What! What am I?...Huh? Com'on you little quitter...tell me what you think...you're so smart." With a sudden burst of rage the boy raked the board and game pieces off the table littering the rug with black and white royalty and attendants. **

**" You're cheating!" He screamed at his father in tired frustration. But was soon screaming in pain, Jason had grabbed the boys arm, pulling him across the table with a wrenching twist of his forearm that garnered a screech of pain from the terrified child. **

**Screaming in his face, "Don't you ever raise your voice with me like that! Now get down there and clean up your mess! " He literally tossed the boy back on the floor. Landing in a heap on the floor young Lance cradled his arm, crying as he to attempted to pick up the pieces... Jason sat back finishing off what was left of his scotch, just watching his injured son whimpering on the rug. He began rubbing fiercely at his forehead, dropping the cigar in the glass tray. He was squinting, as if his eyes hurt. When he finally looked up once more he was watching... but the look wasn't anger or disgust. Something different had softened his harsh guise into one of concern and guilt. Immediately Jason was by the boys side. When he went to touch him, Lance scooted away holding the arm and staring in terror at his father. Jason held up his open hands and was speaking in a gentle subdued tone. **

Booth, Hodgins and Max had watched the scene unfold in absolute stunned silence. Booth thought back to the injuries Bones had found, a broken arm, now he knew exactly how. The way Sweets had cried out when his father dragged him up, had been gut-wrenching. The drinking, the smoking, the physical abuse...it reminded him of his own Dad when he lost control. But it was the gaming that was different. Booths father was mean, abusive and violent when angered, when he was drinking. But he didn't really lay traps, he didn't set them up as much as reacted to current situations in a horrible manner. This guy Andrews, had set up the whole situation...like setting up the chessboard...it was a game. ..._its all been a game..first Pelants...then Andrews...all about making the next move...strategy...misdirection... _He watched as Andrews made his next move.

**" It's okay...now let me look at your arm..." Jason was slowly edging closer to the frightened child whose teary red rimmed eyes followed his movements suspiciously.**

** "No.." he whimpered weakly, attempting to scoot further away, only to find himself against the wall of shelves. Nowhere left to go.**

**"Now Son...you've hurt yourself and I need to see. " At those words the boys eyes narrowed in confusion.. **_**hurt yourself..**_

**"I.. I. didn't ...you " he stammered in protest ,but was interrupted by his fathers shushing him to calm down. **

**"Shh, shh its okay...come here, now, let me help." Lance had little option but to let the man towering over him examine the forearm, which appeared swollen and red. "Can you move your hand? Okay how about wiggling your fingers...ummm okay. I know it hurts...don't worry Daddy's going make it all better.", Jason scooped the child up into his arms and disappeared from the scene. The jangling sound of keys was followed by the slam of a door. **

Hodgins, Booth and Max were left staring at an empty living room. But then a familiar voice filled the silence... **I thought you might be interested to know, that Jason was able to convince the ER staff that Lance had actually fallen over a balcony rail...that the subsequent hand-print shaped marks were the result of him saving the clumsy child from falling to his death. You know, its possible he even believed it himself... Amazing what the mind can do... Okay now back to the show. You don't want miss the ending... **Hodgins felt every hair on the back of his neck stand on end and a wave of heated hatred rush through him _Pelant freaking Pelant...I should have killed him ... if I had so many people might still be here... _Jack pushed the thought aside. It wasn't the first, nor would it be the last, time that single regret kicked him in the gut. Watching how Andrews comforted a five year old Sweets...reminded him of himself trying to coax Michael into letting him put a band aid on his cut knee just a day ago. _..yeah but I didn't put the cut on his knee...what a sick creep ... _

The video resumed. Hodgins found a chair and pulled it next to Booth determined to stay through it all. Booth leaned way back in his chair arms folding over his chest. Sweets would most likely say it was an unconscious attempt to remove his himself physically from something he was uncomfortable with emotionally. He would be right. Booth was having a difficult time convincing himself to view to the end. But he would. So would Max and Hodgins. Movement on the screen caught their attention again.

**The scene opened once more in the living room. Jason and Lance seemed busy tiding up the place. The boy was gathering the stray magazines and newspapers while Jason dusted the shelves. He had placed many items on the coffee table lined up to be cleaned before being placed back on the shelf. Framed photos, collections of medals and model airplanes all awaited their turn. The young boy took an immediate interest in the model of a German Messerschmitt 264 bomber. He gingerly spun one of the many propellers tossing a nervous glance over his shoulder at his father who was busy wiping the upper shelf. Emboldened he picked up the balsa wood model, tracing the painted black cross with a small finger. "Lance!" The boy jumped, nearly dropping the plane. But Jason had his hand there to wrest the bomber from the boys grip. "Lance..this isn't a toy." Jason sat down on the edge of the coffee table holding the plane protectively in his lap. **

**"I'm sorry!" Lance said quickly, stepping back...away from his fathers reach. Jason was still looking at the model.**

**"Hey it's okay... cool huh? I made this when I was about ten. See? Right here... come here you can look just.. be careful.", Lance edged closer looking at a spot on the fuselage that bore his fathers name in tiny letters. "When you get older we can work on one together ...what do you think? That could be fun, right?" Jason smiled brightly at the nodding boy, then stood to put the plane in its place on the third row shelf. They finished their cleaning. "Let's get cleaned up Mamas coming home tonight! "**

**The scene shifted a pretty blonde was sitting with Jason on the couch. They were having a conversation in seriously quiet tones, that became increasingly heated and much louder. Before it was over, Karen was trying to stand only to have Jason grabbing her hand...he was begging her to stay.."they needed her". But the woman wasn't moved. She jerked her hand away.**

**"I came tonight for Lance, to say goodbye. Jason you...you've changed. I have too. It's just not going to work. I'm going to live with my Mom." Jason looked crushed. He buried his face in his hands. "Please ..don't take it like this." Karen said placing her hand on his shoulder. Her blue eyes filled with heartache. " I still care for you ... and I'll always love Lance.. maybe we can still be friends? I can still be a part of his lif.." **

**"Shut up! Just shut up! Moving in with your "mom"? Is that what you call him? ...You think you fooled me... I know what you were doing "working late" all those nights! And those nights you worked double shifts and didn't come home? Yeah...I got wind of where you were...who you were with! ", Jason shrugged off her hand and stood over the petite woman raging at her. " Tonight was a mistake!...Why would I even want a stupid, lying skank like you back in my home anyway?!" He grabbed the cowering women by her blonde locks, dragging her from the couch forcing her toward the entryway. He let go shoving her toward the door.**

**"Stop Jason! Please...you're wrong ahhh! Stop! " At the door she recovered her decorum and glared at Jason who seemed poised to attack her if she dared move further back into the house. "Please...Jason listen to me! Whatever you heard, or are thinking...there's never been anyone else. You changed...you're moody...and possessive. Look at what your doing to your son! He should be in school... not here with you. He needs to be around other kids." She was hoping to reach him. "Please! It doesn't have to be this way." Their eyes locked in a silent showdown.**

**" Mama? ", Lances small voice cut through the quiet, as he appeared in the hallway dressed in his pjs. **

**"Go back to bed Lance..now!", Jason ordered not taking his eyes away from Karen.**

**" Mama? Why are you crying?... Mama?", Lance took a few tentative steps into the living room his eyes darting back and forth between the pair.**

**"Lance! I said... back to bed!" Jason growled. **

**"But..what's goin' on? Mama...what's wrong?", tears were slipping down his little cheeks. **

**"Oh baby ..I..I have to go. ", Karens voice cracked into pieces as she tried to put on a sad smile. " I.. I need to go... um take care of my Mom. " **

**At that Jason gave an ugly snort, "Quit lyin' to us... she's leavin' us Son. Seems Mama doesn't want to be with us anymore. She doesn't love us."**

**"You're leaving? Nooo...please..", he ran towards her, arms outstretched, but before he could reach her he was snatched up into Jasons grip. ".. let me go...uh.. Mama!" The boy struggled to be put down. Karen started toward the childs reaching arms...but paused when her husband turned the boy away from her.**

**"Please ... Jason let me just say... good-bye.", She was now reaching around, trying take the distraught child who was clamoring to get to her. She managed to get close enough for him to lock his thin arms around her neck. A human tug of war, that ended finally when Jason pushed Karen away...nearly dropping the child. **

**"Get out! This isn't your home...and he's not your son! Just go on and leave... we don't need you! Lance! That's enough cryin'...shut up!", His voice was laced with such malice that the woman didn't attempt to reach for the boy again. She could only mummer "I love yous" and "I'll miss yous" to the sniveling child, who's glassy brown eyes still pleaded with her to stay, as she backed reluctantly through the opened door to leave.**

**Jason, shut the door in her face, pressing his back against it, he slid down until he was sitting on the floor ... Lance was still in his arms... sobbing, small hand on the door, "Mama". The mans anger melted into a torrent of tears. Father and son, sat together in sadness. Jason hugged and clung to the boy... mumbling incoherently through his tears. So far removed from the hateful man he was earlier, that the boy was empathetically trying to understand his fathers heartbroken words. **

**"Shh...Daddy..it's gonna be okay..", the boys small hands rested on his fathers shoulders as he stared up at the only family he had left. It was enough to bring the man around. He wiped the tears from his face, tousled the boys curls and patted his cheek. **

**"That's right..it is going to be okay. I still have you.. we have each other, right? We don't need some woman to be happy. ", Jason forced a desperate smile at the anxious and unconvinced face nodding "Uh huh" to him. **

Booth hit pause. Turning to the solemn faces of his companions.

"I need another drink...anyone else?", Booth left the room then returned three bottles in his hand. He took a long swig, sat back down then hit "play".

**The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles were busy kicking Shredders ass on the flickering screen of the living room television, though Lance was hardly paying any attention as he flipped through the large book on his lap. Large pages with brilliantly illustrated pictures of planes. Jason came into the room, sandwich and chips on a paper plate were set on the coffee table. The kid glanced at the offering, but returned his focus on the book. **

**"Alright.. here's lunch. Now be good for awhile.. I've got some work I have to have finished today. I'll be in the shop if you need me." Jason waited for a response. Without looking up the mass of chestnut curls nodded. Jasons eyes squinted in annoyance at the slight, but he shrugged it off leaving his son to his own devices. The scene flashed forward in time. Still the living room. He-Man was becoming master of the universe. The sandwich had perhaps two bites taken out of it. But most important, the book was now laying discarded on the coffee table open to a full double page illustration of the German Messerschmitt 264 bomber."**

"What's he doing? Oh no, kid ...don't!" , Max had a sense of impending doom, watching the young child climbing on the wall of built-in shelves to reach the balsa wood Messershmitt on the third shelf.

**Grabbing his objective Lance scurried down. Holding the plane carefully he looked from the book to the model. Flicking one of the four propellers his eyes lit up and a tight-lipped smile played across his face. Not to last though, when some noise coming from out of the cameras purview, caused him to look up in wide-eyed panic. The danger must have passed though. He returned to his inspection of the bomber, but continued glancing back. He looked thoughtful, as if weighing some great matter. Decision made, Lance crept from the room holding the plane up "in-flight". Scene shift.. Lance sneaks into his bedroom setting his prize on his bed going back to check out in the hall, then shutting the door. He approached the camera in a close-up view.**

Booth, realized the camera must be behind the dresser mirror. As the boy searched for something, he came painfully focused. Booth could see, the shadowy signs of fatigue under his eyes and bruises along his arms and jawline.

**"Come on Teddy...you're gonna be Godzilla..." , he returned to the rug beside the bed. Dropping the stuffed bear, he went around the room gathering cars and figures. He soon had the imaginary makings of a crowded street lined up on the rug. Soon Teddy/ Godzilla was merrily terrorizing the city dwellers. Stomping the G.I. Joes that arrived to save the day with his giant fuzzy foot. What they needed was an air strike. Lance grabbed the Messerschmitt making a few passes over the destruction taking place below. Lost in the moment, he let the flight-path come dangerously close to the monster. Too close. In a strafing dive the wheel assembly crashed into Godzillas head ...ripping it off. Reality came crashing into his world of make believe. But just for a moment, he held up the broken piece in his hand, lost in some dark thoughts. Tossing the bit of metal and plastic tires back to the floor, he held the plane high above his head then brought it crashing down into the bear and the floor. The thin metal props bent and balsa wood cracked. Knees on the floor, he swept the scene of its die-cast traffic and action figure bodies skiddered under the bed, as the plane careened side to side across the rug. The tail and part of a wing, hung splintered. There were only the muted sounds of the toys clattering together on the rug. Lances face was flushed pink and streaked with tears. He abandoned the make believe and focused solely on the complete annihilation of the model now. Over and over it nose dived into the floor, crushing and splintering. Unsatisfied, he landed it, then standing he slammed his foot down over and over. The painted grey wood looked like toothpicks mixed with bits of twisted metal. Exhausted the boy fell to his knees picking through the wreckage. He stared at the bent propellers. He held them as gingerly as when he first held his fathers childhood prize. Looking over his shoulder at the door, the gravity of his actions pressed upon him. Anger was mixing with fear. His hands clenched into fists around the metal, he buried his forehead against them. He was speaking to himself, repeating a mantra of self hate. "Stupid, stupid, stupid..." soon the fists were slowly landing blows, again and again. He either ignored or was unaware of the propeller blades cutting into his hands, cheeks or forehead, as he continued striking harder... harder. Suddenly, Jason came into frame grabbing his sons hands before they could do anymore damage. This broke the spell the boy was under, open hands let the pieces fall to the floor! He turned to face his father allowing for a full view of his handiwork.**

"My god! His face... it's covered in blood!", Hodgins swiped his hands down his face. He understood the anger kids that age displayed. Michael had temper tantrums, but this...this was way more than a tantrum.

**" I'm sorry...I'm sorry! ", A rapid flow of apologies ensued, Jason seemed shocked at the sight in front of him. **

**" What did you do?", the man held the bloody hands then touched his sons cheek brushing a smear of red away with his thumb. "It's going to be okay..." he picked the boy up and carried him away. Flash forward, cleaned of the scarlet blood, bandages around his palms and right foot, more band-aids along his hair line and cheek. Gone too was the blood stained tee. Jason gently laid the boy down, pulling a small quilted throw up to his waist. Lance rolled to his side, dead to the world. His father sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, stroking the mop of curls. He stood to leave, his shoes crushed over the remains of the plane. Jason bent down picking up what was once a propeller. He eyed the scrap...then shot a look at the sleeping child. Shaking his head he walked out of the room. For a few moments it seemed as if the video had frozen, the boy made no movements there was hardly any noise. **

Booth focused harder, Lance had turned away, his bare back toward the camera. Now that Jason was no longer blocking the shot the agent could clearly see at least three dark lines lashed between his bony shoulder-blades. _...damn... _He expected the scene to shift but Pelants editing vision decided to stay with this awhile longer. Booth wondered why until..

_**The bad dream was coming again, he was cornered by a huge terrible monster with many faces, each more frightening then the last. He ran as hard as his short legs would go but every time he ended up right.. back ..here. Nowhere to go... he kicked and hit at the monster but he's just to big... too ferocious! If the monsters dirty clawed paw wasn't covering his mouth..he would scream for help... But if he did who would hear?... There is no one to hear him. He is alone... with the monster. **_

**The still figure began thrashing and kicking in his troubled sleep. The quilt fell to the floor. He was muttering "no" and whimpering fearfully. The whimpers intensified into full fledged screams, he was still flailing around as he sat up, eyes wide open but still stuck in nightmareland. Jason flew into the room trapping his arms in a bear hug, "Shh.. shh it's okay.. wake up! See you're awake... you are safe now!", he soothed as he rocked.**

Hodgins could feel his dinner threatening to make a reappearance as he watched Lances night terror and Andrews rocking him in his arms telling him how everything was alright. ..._okay?...he was safe? What the hell was wrong with this guy? Couldn't he see what he was doing?... _He saw the bruises, the lash marks, and it broke his heart... Jack Hodgins wanted to go straight home and hug his own son right now... let him know how loved he was ..how his dad would never..never hurt him. But he would stay...see it through. He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, and looked up to see Max giving him reassuring look.

"You know Tempe, could probably use that bag now. Why don't you go on home... make sure the kids get tucked in. Booth and I've got this.", Maxs soft blue eyes must have been reading his mind. But Hodgins didn't get up.

"I think Angela and Brennen will understand." The bug man returned his attention to the screen.

**The room was dark, the only light came from the glow of the tv screen. Johnny Carson was wrapping up the Tonight Show. Jason was stretched out on the couch... asleep. The lit cigar stuck precariously between the fingers of his right hand that rested on his chest threatening with each rise and fall to burn the white cotton tee. His other arm was slung off the couch barely reaching the edge of the coffee table where the heavy scotch glass lay on its side at his finger tips, soaking the clutter of newspapers with its contents. Lance sat on the floor right in front of the screen. He got up, flipped on the lamp on the end-table at Jasons feet. Giving the cigar a glare he cautiously reached out, snatching the burning object and dropped it unceremoniously in the glass ashtray. His nose wrinkled in disgust. Next he picked up the glass, a small bit of amber liquid clung to the bottom, he held it up giving it a sniff, he turned the glass up, making a face when the alcohol hit his tongue. **

**"Hehe what's the matter my Scotch not smooth enough for ya, hehe. ...hhmm..let's see where's my...oh there it is." ,Jason reached around Lance retrieving the smoldering cigar. "What're ya up to..hhmm?" **

**"You were asleep... you were going to get burned..that's all." Lance explained meekly. Setting the glass down quickly. **

**"Oh..well in that case. I guess I owe you one ..huh?" Jason sat up wrapping his arm around the boy, as he removed the cap from the half empty bottle of Johnnie Walker and poured some into the glass. **

**"Upsy-dazy!", the man said, cigar clenched between his teeth, hoisting his son onto his lap. "Alright...here ya go. Drink up..." he held the glass up to his lips.**

**" Yuck...no. I..um.. its um.. gross." He turned away from the glass to look at the tv, where David Letterman was giving his "top ten list". **

**"Gross?... It's not gross. It's Scotch! ... a mans drink. You wanna be like your ol' man... don't ya? Com'on just a sip... " He continued holding the glass up, it was obvious he wasn't dropping the matter. " One sip... com'on.." **

**When Lance finally turned back the glass was directly in front of his face, he gave his father a dark look, taking the sip. Jason turned up the glass, turning the sip into choke inducing gulp, which left the kid sputtering and gagging. **

**" Augh...cough#cough# ... gah! Why'd you..cough#.. do that?", he was angrily wiping at his mouth as the alcohol continued its burn. **

**"Hehehe.. oh your alright. Want more? No? Okay..", Jason placed the cigar in the ashtray then finished off what was left of the drink. Laying back on the couch he wrapped both arms around his son pulling him into a hug. After a while he released the embrace. Lance sat up, sitting on his fathers midsection. He seemed less steady than before. **

**"Where're ya going? Hhmm? ", Jason began tickling the boys sides judging by the giggling that filled the room. **

**"Stop..hehehe stop...haha.", he was grinning, eyes fluttering as he tried to focus. "Hee he hee." **

**Jason was grinning back, " Why're ya giggling now? I stopped... and you're still giggling?"**

**"I..I. don know..hehehe.", the boy whispered then covered his mouth as if it were some big secret. "..its just funny." **

**"You're funny.", Jason poked his belly, getting a another giggle. He raked the curtain of overgrown curls from his sons face. "About time for a hair cut ...shaggy. Hehehe." He watched the smile fade into a troubled frown. "Mama cut my hair.. I miss Mama."**

**"Do ya now? Well, Mama ain't coming home... she left us. That's what women do Lance. Leave. They make ya think they love ya ... then its bye-bye! Just like your real mother. She left me ..then left you too! But I found you. Ahhhh... Yep I got back a little piece of her." Jason held the boys face in his hands. " You look so much like her... I had a picture somewhere...ah well. Same soulful eyes, same brown curls. Even the same pouting little lips." Jason seemed lost in thought as he stared at his son. " But those smarts.. hehehe that's all me. Ya know... someday...I think we'll find her.. show 'er how stupid she was to ever leave." An edge crept into Jasons tone. " Until then ... I've got you,.. right? You won't leave me." There was no reply. For by this point the boys eyes had shut, he would have fell over asleep were it not for his fathers hold. Jason let his head rest on his shoulder..as he struggled to sit up. Eventually he made it, barely able to stand he finally managed to carry his son and himself, stumbling, into the boys room. **

**The scene shifts again. Once again Jason looks to be passed out on the couch. A football game being ignored on the television only half visible due to the sunlights glare obscuring the screen. Lance appears at the edge of the hallway. Peering over at his fathers prone form. When he steps into full view he is dressed in shirt, jacket, jeans and sneakers. He stood for a few minutes glancing from the couch to the front door. Then as if he was creeping through a lions den he tiptoed past his sleeping father to the door, carefully turning the handle and was gone. **

"Huh... he's making a break for it..", Max commented. He knew that it wasn't going turn out well. But he had a feeling of sad admiration for the doomed effort. Running away from home was usually a cry for attention. But not here, here it was actually an act of desperation, of escape... despite the consequences. Max knew there would be consequences.

**Time lapsed footage showed the end of the game and the dimming of the room as the sun set. Jason came around, sitting up, rubbing his face and looking around the dark house. **

**"Lance! Lance! " Leaving the couch he ambled down the hall. He looked into the boys room. His bedroom. The closet. "Lance! .. answer me! " Jason was completely wide awake now, rushing through the house. He paced around, more than once he grabbed the phone but didn't seem sure if he should make a call. He picked up his wallet, a thick brown leather tri-fold. After a quick search of many cards he found the one he wanted. Holding the card he dialed. Soon he was spinning a tale of woe. His son was missing ... probably not far... can you help.. no I don't think we need to let the rest of department know...not yet. Just drive around... I'll do the same. He hung up, grabbed his car keys and disappeared. Later.. Jason was back. Pacing frantically. The phone rings ,immediately all the tension leaves his body. Found him. He waits impatiently. Soon the doorbell rings. He swings the door wide. A police officer steps in with Lance in his arms. Jason quickly takes him. Setting him down, kneeling before him, he looks the child over, hugs him. Through it all the boys eyes remain wide and full of fear. He stands up hands on the boys shoulders, smiling at the man in uniform. **

**"Thanks...you have no idea how frightened I was.", Jason looked down addressing the boy now. " You scared the hell out of your old man. What were you thinking?" Jason didn't wait for a reply. Looking back at the cop. **

**"I'm just glad I we found him, Jason...but. Could we speak... um..." the mans eyes darted down to the boy whose brown eyes bore into him, on the verge of shedding more tears than when he had dragged him from his hiding place in the elementary schools play ground playhouse. Or when he cried begging to be taken anywhere but home. "..privately." **

**"Sure... " Jason said in a wary tone. " Lance... go to your room." Before he could remove his hands from his shoulders the boy had bolted from the room.**

**"Okay... Bob...you know how much I appreciate this right? " Jason flashed a wide sincere smile, "Almost makes up for all those times I got your ass out of trouble with your old lady... " Jason stepped into the kitchen coming back he hand a couple of brown bottles, he offered one to Bob. Bob hesitated then took the beer. Jason and the officer sat at the dining room table. The policeman looked anxious.**

**"Look, I did this ... because your right. I do owe you and your brother. But if anyone finds out I failed to file a report... if something happens. Well its my badge... my wife would kill me." **

**"What do you mean..."if something happens" Bob?", Jasons hazel eyes narrowed with concern. "I asked for a friends help to locate my missing child, you found him and brought him home... end of story. No reason to report anything."**

**" Jason... we're friends. We grew up together. I know how your father.. even your brother could be. Hell, my dad was no walk in the park either. Look, I don't want to tell you how to discipline your kid.. but the things he told me you've done. If true.. Do you have any explanation for the bruises ,why he ran away and why he's telling me these things."**

**Jason sat back in his chair. Dropping his head and shoulders in defeat, he sighed loudly. " I understand how this must look. Bob, I haven't told anyone this but... Karen left me... for good this time, a couple of weeks ago. Found out she was cheating. Ever since the boys been a real handful. It messes with a kid losing his mama like that. He's angry, sad. Been breaking stuff...hurting himself. Lying. He is really taking it hard. Not like its easy on either of us. I guess ...dealing with all this maybe I haven't been paying enough attention to him. As for hurting him. I'll admit ... I don't cotton to these touchy-feely parenting ideas. I do on occasion spank him. Spare the rod spoil the child. But I would never harm him." Jason said sincerity dripping from each word. **

**"Yeah... I.. I thought it might be something like that. Man... that's rough. So Karen cheated and left? Man..I wouldn't have thought she would do you like that? Maybe, you should take him to see one of them kid shrinks. Well .. I'm just glad he's back home safe and sound. Kid like him out on the streets alone no telling what weirdo might snatch him up. There are some real crazies out there." Bob said as he stood to leave. " Hey mind if I say goodbye?" He nodded in the direction of the hall. **

**Jason smiled brightly, " No, go right ahead." **

**Officer Bob, found the boy sitting legs criss-cross on his bed, face buried in his hands. His head jerked up at the sound of Bobs entrance. Bob was taken back by the hateful glare radiating from those dark eyes. In fact it stopped him in his tracks. **

**"I'll be on my way... now you be a good boy. I don't want have to do this again. Look I know your angry and probably don't understand why everything turned out this way. Why parents do the things they do. But they love you. And running away from your family ... that won't solve anything. Your Dad explained everything... so I'm going let you off this time. You've been through a lot... so has your Dad so maybe you should give him a break ..huh? And when your mad.. use your words not your fists, hhmm? " ,Bob gave the bewildered kid a curt nod then left. **

**The video went into a split screen. To the right Lance still sat on his bed, head buried once more in his hands. On the left, at the front door, Jason was shaking his friends hand. Thanking him profusely for finding his boy. He was all smiles...until the door shut. He locked the door. Then fished a zippo and a Black&Mild cigar from his top shirt pocket. As the lighter flickered to life Jason sucked life into the cigar, deeply inhaling before sending a cloud of smoke into the air. On the right, Lances head slowly lifted, he was inhaling deeply. He stared at the empty hallway...waiting... **

Booth noticed the blank stare the boy had... it was the look people had when they were resigned to their fate. He was struck at how that was somehow worse than fear or anger. Those emotions implied you cared about the outcome... that you had hope. _...Why would he have any hope, Barney Fife just told him it was his fault...more or less. God, wonder if that useless jerk is still on the force..won't be long... _Booth was stirred from his thoughts by the cries emanating from the laptop. _...guess that explains the burns... _Booth knew the finale was coming soon, nearly all the injuries had been accounted for, Karen was gone at this point and happy, fatherly Jason was seemly absent most of the time. Booth had watched all this misery, hoping for...what... he wasn't sure.

**Another scene, this time Lance was sitting on his bed reading some huge book covering his lap. No pictures all words. His head was down, chin resting on his balled up hands. So engrossed he didn't even look up when an older boy strolled into the cameras view. **

Booths attention was peaked... this was someone new. But he noticed right away what wasn't new. The boy who couldn't have been more than twelve had a couple of distinctly familiar features. _...Who the Hell are you?... _The Agents gut was telling him this was important...pay attention.

**"Whatchya reading... Lance? Every time I come over , you stick yer nose in a book. " the older boy walked around the room occasionally picking up some toy, or other belonging of Lances, before tossing it aside dismissively. He made his way to the foot of the bed plopping down, one leg on the bed, the other hanging off the side. All the commotion caused the book to bounce around a bit. Finally acknowledging the boys presence, Lance cast a dark glance his way.**

**"Nothing you'd understand..." Lance went back to his book ignoring the flash of anger the insult sparked in the older boy. **

**"Lemme see that! ", The bigger kid snatched the book easily despite Lances attempts to hold on. The boy looked at the pages then looked at the cover ,"The Great Ciii..vili..sations of the World." Yeah like you ... understand it any better!" **

**"Give ..it ..back!", Lance grabbed for the book.**

**"Relax.. I don't want yer stupid book.. here." He tossed the heavy volume back. "Look... I just thought I could play with your Game Boy, your Dad said you have the new Super Mario ..he promised..." the boy said walking up to the dresser, picking up the gaming device. Lance dropped the book, running from the bed he grabbed the Game Boy back from him. **

**"No.", Lance snapped.**

**"Yer, Dad said I could!" , The boy snarled reaching over Lances shoulder for the toy as the younger boy attempted a quick retreat. Unable to grab the device he simply grabbed the much smaller Lance in a bear hug tackle. They hit the floor, Lance taking the brunt of the hit. The older boy easily got the upper-hand and wrested the game away and then plopped down victorious in an over-sized beanbag in the corner of the room. Lance got up rubbing his rug burned knees, red faced, giving his tackler a look that could kill. **

**"You're such ...such a jerk! Why don't you go home?! " Lances words were full of malice. **

**"Because I..don't want to! And.. yer Dad said I can come over anytime I want.", the boy retorted, eyes still glued to the screen in his hands. "Besides... I like it here. Sure as hell beats my house. Before yer ass showed up I used to get to come by a lot. Then YOU came." **

**Lance stared at the boy now, less malice, more analyzing... thoughtfully he climbed back on the bed and retrieved his book. But he didn't read. Instead he kept looking at the intruder. **

**"Why?" **

**"Why what?" **

**"Why do you want to come here?", The brown eyes looked truly perplexed.**

**"Cuz... I like yer Dad. He has cool stuff... he let's me play with. He actually talks..an stuff. And there's no snot-nosed lil' sister following me around..or pukin' baby cryin' all the time. Ya got this nice clean place...my Mom...", he was shaking his head, "… she's always too wasted do any of that crap!" **

**"What about your dad?", Lance seemed very interested.**

**"My Dad... is a .. loser. Right now... I bet his ass is holed up with his girlfriend ..or in jail...he ain't bothered to come home lately. Huh, we could all die ... he'd never even care. ", he punched at the buttons harder. "But yer dad is great!"**

**At that remark Lance had a look of complete disdain.**

**"Is you say so...", he mumbled quietly, opening the book.**

**"Well yeah!.. I mean sure he gets ... grumpy..and... stuff. But, ya just gotta know how to keep him in a good mood. Even sober and in a good mood my Dad doesn't give two shits about me ... ", the boy grumbled, his expression darkened as he smacked the handheld game after losing his last life. He glowered over at Lance, who had his head down in his book.**

**"Jason changed when you showed up...", The boy mumbled angrily mostly to himself, then stood up, tossing the game back on dresser as he dropped down on the edge of the bed. He continued his glaring. Lance didn't look up, but began to close the book. ".. before ya got here he'd let me crash here.. with him and Karen. So I didn't have to go home... when my Dad wuz home. We'd watch movies... eat junk and play video games...then YOU came! " **

**Lance held the book up shield like, as he tried to get away from the other boy who was shoving and pushing at him. "It's all yer fault!... he was my dad!... "**

**"Craig Morrison! What do you think you're doing!", Jasons voice boomed, entering the room he pulled the boy up by his arm and away from a still cowering Lance. **

**"I'm sorry...I didn't mean too!", Craig pleaded his case. Turning to his victim, who just stared wide-eyed from behind the large book, "Lance...Lance I'm sorry.. ya know I didn't me ta.", looking up at Jason he tearfully began begging for leniency, "I'm sorry Jason! "**

**Jason led the boy out of the room, "I think it's time for you to go home!"**

**As the scene shifts to the living room, Craig was ahead of Jason, he turned and hugged Jason ... "Please..please don't make me leave... I promise I won't do that ever again. " **

**"What did you think you were doing in there? I said you could keep him company... " Jasons threatening tone caused the boy to step back. ". . . Lance is my son... you understand that? If you want to be welcome here... ya better get that straight."**

**"I know...it's just...", the boy looked at his feet, "I thought you ... cared.."**

**Jason stepped closer pulling the boys face up to look into his eyes. " I do care Craig... Hell, if I didn't you'd be stuck babysitting your siblings, while that worthless mom of yours is shooting up, instead of here playing games... think about that. Now ... be a good boy... play nice and maybe you can stay. You can help me in the shop.. go on out there. I'm gonna explain this to Lance." The boy left for the garage. Jason headed for the hallway.**

**He found Lance, laying on his bed playing the Game Boy. **

**"How are you doing? ", Jason sat on the edge of the twin bed. Without looking up Lance shrugged. " You didn't get hurt did you?" Without a word the boy shook his head to the negative. Jason reached out to rustle the boys hair, but he flinched away. **

**"Craig promised to never come at you like that again... okay?" Once more Jason received only a nod. "I didn't send him home yet, but he is going to help in the shop. He won't bother you. Okay? ", No response at all. Jason got up to leave, but before he got to the door.**

**"Why do you like him?"**

**"I guess ..because... before I had you to care for... he needed me. " Jason came back to Lances bedside. " He doesn't have anyone who cares about him...He could stay here a week and his parents wouldn't even notice. You were gone five hours it drove me crazy." At the reminder of that night, Lance cast his eyes downward.**

**"I don't like him. He hates me."**

Booth stopped to video. _Craig Morrison... Craig?.. didn't Ms. Rose mention a Craig?... _

"What are you thinking, Booth?", Max asked as his son-in-law found a pen and paper scrawling the boys name.

"No idea... but the name is familiar. I'm going check it out.", With his sense of purpose renewed Booth sat up. Then hit play.

**The scene shifted both boys were sitting in the living room watching wrestling, The Hulk was preforming a leg drop on Macho Man Randy Savage. One cheered ,the other cried foul. **

**"Ha! See...I told you the Hulkster would win.", Lance stated with satisfaction. **

**"Only becuz.. he cheated! He couldn't take Savage in fair match! ", Craig countered leaning to grab a soda can from the coffee-table. **

**"Yeah.. right! You know it's fake right? Real wrestling is totally different.", Lance said grabbing a handful of popcorn from a bowl and forcing it into his mouth."**

**"Yer so dumb, of course its real, ya just saw them on tv !", Craig fiercely took another swig from the can nearly missing his mouth. He wiped the soda off with the back of his hand somewhat dramatically. "Take that back.."**

**"No. I read about it... real wrestling doesn't use a ring like that... and they can't hit each other. They ..um. grapple."**

For a moment Booths wife came to mind, explaining how kung fu in the movies bears little resemblance to the actual discipline. But had a feeling Lance was being too smart for his own good. At that moment the room lights flickered, a loud boom, interrupting the boys argument. Booth observed carefully, there was a storm moving in.

**"I said...take it back...now!", Craig was standing over Lance who was still sitting on the rug. **

**"No.", he stood glaring up at his tormentor. "I'm right." He brushed past the older boy toward the couch. Lightning flashed outside the wind howled. The lights flickered again, in the momentary darkness Craig had lunged at Lance pinning him on the table. Despite all efforts Lance couldn't get away. **

**"Let go of me.. stop! ", Lance was reaching around trying to find something anything. **

The three men watched in shock as the heavy glass ashtray made contact. The older boy went down. Lance rubbing his sore neck still clutching the ashtray in his hand. Standing over Craig Lances eyes held a dark thoughtful expression. Hodgins recognized it as the same look he had with the plane.

"No,no,no..he's not going to...not Sweets.",Hodgins put voice to all their fears.

**Slowly, trembling hands held the glass high overhead. But the tears came down instead, as the rain began pouring outside. Those dark eyes closed, but popped wide open when the heavy object was snatched from his grip. Jason tossed the blunt object to the couch. Quickly checking Craigs prone figure. He was coming around slowly. The bloody spot over his temple renewed its trickle. **

**"Com' on... wake up! That's it com'on...Lance what did you do?", Jason screamed in angry panic.**

**"I.. I... I .. he was...", the boy was clamouring to explain but was too shocked.**

**"Do ya understand that now I have to tryin' explain this! They'll probably think I did it.. but that's what ya want'em to think ain't it! " ,Jason had forgotten about his nursing duties as his rage began to boil over into new territory. " Yer just dyin' to get away from me arn't ya! Com' mere! "**

**Lance made a break for the hallway. To hide.. to find some place out of sight. Jason followed, doors slammed open, slammed shut. When he returned to the living room he had something in his hand. Rope? No wire... a length of heavy gauge wire. The lightening flashed, and thunder rattled the camera. Then suddenly the scene was completely gone. Static. **

The static was replaced once again with a white screen into which Christopher Pelant stepped.

**"And that's alll.. folks! ... Unfortunately, the power went out enough times it fried the system. But as you can see, that was still a pretty dramatic ending... ahhh but it is not the end... is it Booth?" **

Pelants wicked smile widened further still. Booth grimaced at the screen.

**"You see, right now... your dear friend and colleague, poor unfortunate Dr. Lance Sweets is having the time of his life with his dear old Dad. I can not begin to express how much, the knowledge that I could arrange that little family reunion for him, fills my heart with... joy!" **

Pelant held a hand over his heart almost sighing. The smile disappeared as he glowered at the camera.

**"At the end of the day when the battle is done, when the smoke has all cleared, and ashes are gone, we see who has lost and who has won. Is it the father or is it the son?" Goodnight Temperance .. Booth. Only.. time will tell..**

**The screen went black.**

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**That's all folks! Til next time!**

**Just tolerated it? Hated it? Loathed it?**

**Tell it to the box! Please!**


	21. Chapter 21 Broken Hearted

This chapter is out of sequence a bit, forgive me please. For my heart is broken.

Thank you if you read, review if you wish.

Hopefully, by the next chapter I will have recovered from the terrible ending of the

Hart Hanson & Kathy Reiches Bones series ender...yes for me it was the end.

All that is left now is fanfiction.

She could hardly hear the words Dr. Sayroyan was calmly tossing in her direction, over the pounding of her own heart and loud protestations that they were wrong. Words about a fire, bodies, inclusion, exclusion, mitochondrial and nuclear DNA , a jumble of scientific jargon that meant her one and only Lancelot was most probably deceased. She hadn't even been made aware anything that had happened as of late. _They should have called...Lance should have called me...I should have called him.. _She had come into the lab today on a lark, she had been busy with doctoral studies and other pursuits, and been out of the intern rotation for a few weeks. She just wanted to stop by ..visit ... maybe gloat a bit about how well she was progressing. Maybe run into her favorite FBI shrink. She hadn't spoken to or seen him since the day they had coffee at the diner, when she was worrying over her oral examinations and disappointing Dr. Brennen. It had been a sweet, tense, awkward and wonderful few moments. Now she was hearing that that might be how their story ends..._ like hell.._ Daisy insisted Cam let her help. She would identify the body, and they'd see it is not Lance. .._it just can't be..._ But, Dr. Sayroyan was shaking her head no.

_No?...No?!.. other than Dr. Brennen herself I am most likely to find the missing piece... I need to do this...my Lance needs me!.. S_he felt a stabbing pain in her chest and began feeling woosy.

"Daisy...Daisy you need to calm down. Breathe! As I was saying... the genetic testing process has yet to be completed.. However at this point... the evidence points to ...Lance. I'm sorry...", Camille was losing the battle to remain stoic. " I would have called you... I was.. but I wanted to be sure first. I've been so tied up ... so busy." Cams mahogany eyes searched the office fighting away tears threatening to fall. She took Daisys hand and held it as she willed herself to remain calm. Taking a slow breath she, wrapped her arm around the distraught intern and held her, not caring about mascara staining her Marc Jacobs dress. She let Daisy sob and cry enough for the both of them. Then Cam explained gently how they already had enough people working on the id and how given her present emotional state Daisy should allow them to finish their task. Reluctantly, Daisy agreed then found her way home.

Just inside the solitude of her apartment, Daisy fell apart as she fell against the door, sliding down until she was on the floor holding herself... catching the tears that refused to stop in her petite hands. She wailed out in denial. _...It just can't be... he can't be dead..Why? This..its..so wrong! ..._ She would eventually exhaust...sniffing... gasping halted breaths, staring blankly into the dim room, only to have some moment.. some memory of him, his warm sweet smile, his voice, the way he laughed, would overtake her mind as clear as if he was there beside her. Once more the sound of pain would fill the air, not words, but a heart rending wail of anguished loss, closely followed by a mix of incoherent babble and more crying. The floor beneath her was cold and hard, but she couldn't feel anything but an emptiness growing inside her. She could not muster the energy, nor the care, to move beyond this point. So she lay down, on that cold unforgiving tile, and wept ...silently now. Though her soft brown eyes were looking into the dark recesses of her apartment...all she saw was him...them together. Each blink caused crystalline streaks to race down her cheek onto the tile.

When the phone rang Cam was wrist deep in a newly acquired case. .._work doesn't stop... _She checked the caller ID before peeling off the blue latex gloves. She felt her heart jump at the sight of Quanticos genetics lab...she wasn't expecting them to call so soon. They had said two weeks minimum it had only been six days since she sent the, tooth found with the older man and the pelvic bone of the younger man. The gloves came off with a hurried snap.

"Hello Dr. Sayroyan of the Jeffersonian Medico-Legal Lab. Hello... yes. Oh..um I see.", she closed her eyes and bowed her head, placing her hand on the edge of the table to steady herself. "Yes..yes I understand. Thank..thank you." The phone fell to her side, she continued staring at the top of her patent leather high-heels.

"Cam? Is something wrong? " Aristoo stepped into the autopsy room and put his arms around his love. Cam looked into his worried eyes.

"That was Quanticos Genetics lab... there was a match. The.. uh older man...it was Jason Andrews.", Cam

"And the other set of remains?" , Aristoo felt her draw in a deep breath.

"Inconclusive... severely degraded, yielded no usable material...Oh Aristoo! This means..." , she buried her head into his shoulder.

He held her, as he had every night since that day. He held her shaking form wishing he could ease her heart and mind. _..I could say that that was a good thing...it meant there is still a chance...but the other body is this Andrews then ... _Instead he just held the woman he loved. Her tears breaking his heart.

Caroline tried unsuccessfully to relax in her first-class seat, nursing her gin and tonic, angry at herself for not being in town for the last week and a half. She glanced over at the documentary film producer she now considered a close personal friend, he was snoozing away. _..This is his fault. Dragging me away on a vacation...I haven't been away from my office this long ...ever. Now I do and all hell breaks loose.. _She turned back to the window the pitch black of the night sky matched her mood. She and "Scorsese" here had been holed up on some primitive island getaway, getting away from all the modern day intrusions... _like phones! ..What in the hell was I thinking... _It wasn't until yesterday, on a trip to the nearest village she was able to make a call to her office. When her secretary told her about the cases, the fire...about Dr. Sweets. ..._missing presumed dead..._ was the official FBI line according to some Agent Mettes. _Who the hell is Mettes... where's Seely Booth?... _They hopped the first flight back to DC. And so now she was staring into the nothing... feeling everything. Confusion, anger, sadness, loss... She didn't like getting all emotional, but she had a soft spot for her boy shrink. And the thought that he was really gone... caused cracks to form in that tough ol' heart of hers... that forced tears to fall. She felt a hand patting hers, quickly she wiped her cheek, then faced him with a stern mask..

"You don't fool me ya know...", he wore a concerned smile and gave her hand a gentle squeeze..then returned to his rest, yet still holding on. Allowing her the privacy she needed, without being alone. It would have warmed heart... if it wasn't so busy breaking.


	22. Chapter 22 Revelation

Chapter 22: Revelation

To those dear readers still reading this tale... thank you.

To those who review, favorite & follow.. thank you.

I do not own Bones

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The Angelatron had finished the virtual reconstruction of the bits and pieces of bone recovered in the house fire. Without enhancements and computer calculated correction. The skeleton presented on the screen was bent and twisted. There were many gaps, where no bone had been found. Enhancing the image straightened the distortions and filled in the gaps. But the real value, had been that now the actual pieces could be put back together, she would be able to look for identifiers. The computer gave the interns the assembly directions. Fragment 345 connects to fragment 468, it had taken time to put them all together again. That time had been difficult for the anthropologist who had felt useless until now. Finally, she could get a clear view of whose bones were on her table. Of course, it wasn't going to be easy. First she had to determine what fracturing was fire damage and what was from injury. Then she could compare injuries. There was also the matter of height and weight. Even correcting for heat induced shrinkage of the bones her figures left a wide range. The best she could say was this man was between 180.34 cm to 185.42 cm tall. Five eleven to six one. She knew Sweets was six foot. It wasn't enough. She examined the lines, the cracks and fissures, slowly by process of elimination she tried to separate heat damage from injurious damage. But the fire had burned away the details, even microscopically, so that one crack appeared just like another. Finally, a few bones revealed their secrets. As she made the comparison to the known injuries of her friend, her heart, which up until now had been held in sorrows vise like grip, was pounding in her chest. She felt for the first time in days she could breathe deeply allowing that muscle to speed a rush of endorphins through her as she raced from the bones toward Cams office. As she approached she saw a man in a dark suit, Agent Mettes. He was watching as Cam signed some paperwork.

" It's not him!", Brennen exclaimed as she burst through the door not bothering to knock. " It isn't Sweets, Cam!"

"Are you sure"

"Yes!", Brennen was smiling through tears now, " Look... here on the right distal phalange ." She stepped past the FBI agent to a microscope station, where she placed some small bone. Forgetting the paperwork Cam walked up to the screen. The bone surface looked perfectly smooth.

"I don't see anything Dr. Brennen.", Cam seemed confused.

"I know! And that's how I know. Sweets fingers where smashed by a door as a child. All of his phalanges showed damage. There should be damage on this bone. There is not.", she was so excited, but noticed Dr. Saroyon was not as enthused. " Cam, why aren't you happy? This means Sweets didn't die in the fire."

Cam gave a half-hearted smile, " I..I am. But then where is he?"

Brennen forehead wrinkled in thought, " I would surmise, that he is still being held by Jason Andrews.", she turned on Mettes. "You should refocus your efforts on locating Andrews, we need to save Sweets."

The Agent just glanced at Dr. Sayroyan. "We have ...already located Jason Andrews ..."

"So Sweets has been rescued? Cam I do not understand.."

"The other set of remains was a DNA match for Jason Andrews, I got the results just before Agent Mettes arrived. Dr. Brennen the other results were inconclusive...there was too much damage to the pelvic bone."

"So if that's Andrews then where is Sweets? Who is the younger man?", excitement was tempered by all the new questions.

Agents Mettes had listened intently as the women came to their conclusions.

"So what you're telling me is that Andrews and some as of yet unidentified male died in the fire. And that Dr. Sweets is not dead, but missing. Hhmm. That puts a new spin on the murder investigations."

Mettes pulled his phone from his coat pocket. Looking at Dr. Brennen he asked. "And you're sure that isn't Dr. Sweets bones in there?... It's such a small bone." He held the phone to his ear.

Brennen gave the agent a withering stare, " Yes I am positive. Those are not the remains of Dr. Lance Sweets."

Mettes gave a thumbs up in recognition of Brennens reply, "Hello, Sir, Mettes Sir. According to the Jeffersonian docs. Dr. Sweets wasn't in that fire. Jason Andrews and a john doe were. Yes Sir, many in the Bureau will be relieved. But, he is still missing... yes I'll get right on it. But Sir there is another possibility here...and I really am loath to even mention it. But shouldn't we consider Dr. Sweets as a possible suspect..yes I know. I'll be there within thirty minutes."

"What! Suspect? In what? ", Dr. Sayroyan asked alarmed.

"You suspect Sweets of murdering those boys Agent Mettes?", Brennen charged.

"It's just another line to investigate. I'm just looking at the details and trying to find the truth. Now, I'm sorry if that rankles your sensibilities. I just go where the evidence leads me.", He grabbed the paperwork Cam had signed, pausing in the doorway he turned back to the women. "Don't worry, either way ...we will find him."

"I don't like that man." Cam offered as she watched his short, stocky form disappear through the sliding lab doors. Brennen nodded in agreement.

"I'm going to inform Booth...oh and Angela! ", rushed towards her office.

"Hey Bones what's up? Are you sure? Babe, are you one hundred percent sure? Okay..ninety-eight point eight is good enough." Booth was smiling and breathing easier, he tempered his excitement, though. Alive didn't mean okay. But it was a start. Now they just had to find him."Agent Mettes? He thinks what? Sweets? Oh.. well don't worry about Mettes I'll have a chat with him." Booth pulled the SUV up that river stone gravel drive beside the green craftsman home. " Listen, Bones... he's alive. Now we just need to bring him home. I've got a question for Ms. Rose. Yeah, just got here. I'll tell her. Love you, bye.", Booth tucked the device in his pocket and departed his vehicle. He stepped with a renewed since of urgency, up the steps. The flowers were still fragrant and beautiful. Wind- chimes played a tune. For Booth the world just got a touch brighter. Just a touch. In the know this time, Booth shoved his index finger into the lions mouth. Only once. He heard foot steps. The door opened. The red head on the other side of the screen door greeted him with a subdued smile.

" Good afternoon Ms. Rose . May I speak with you?", Booth stepped back expecting her to come out on the porch.

"Agent Booth. Now where's that partner of yours? Oh, no matter. Come in...", she opened the door ushering the surprised man inside.

Inside was as nice as the outside. Dark hardwood floors, ornate antique furniture. Pictures in frames of all shapes and sizes covered the walls. Paintings in an array of styles dotted the decor. The Agent followed the woman into the front den. He liked its warm cozy feel. The heavy wooden beams overhead, the massive wooden mantle and stone fireplace, juxtaposed with the floral motif on the furniture. But somehow it all worked. Occasionally in this array of furnishings he would meet a pair of eyes. Watching him. Booth sat down in one of the two dark brown leather chairs that flanked the floral sofa. At that moment a huge yellow tabby jumped onto the coffee table and sat down. Nearly eye level with a seated Booth the large yellow eyes seemed to be sizing him up. Booth chose to ignore the the feline. Diana sat down on the end of the sofa.

"Now Agent Booth, how can I be of service to the FBI today." Though her green eyes sparkled, Booth thought she looked a bit more worn than last they met.

"Ms.R..."

"Diana..please. I would prefer Diana." She requested gently.

"Uh okay, Diana... when we last spoke. You told us about that night. You said Andrews mentioned someone else as having been there. You mentioned a Craig... do you remember a Craig Morrison?"

Diana looked thoughtful, then aggravated., " No... just the first name Craig. Why? "

Booth produced an image he had pulled from the video, handing Diana the picture. He watched her study the image carefully. He saw recognition flash in her eyes.

" Is this boy Craig Morrison? , Diana handed the picture back as if touching it bothered her.

"Yes. Ms. Ro...Diana he was there that night. The night of the storm." Booth said "And before."

"I never knew his name. I only ever saw him in passing. I do remember he was in Jasons shop a few times. I only spoke to him once." ,Diana had a tone of disapproval.

"What about?" Booth wondered.

" Well... I had gone out. When I came home it was evening... the sun was setting. Anyway. As I came up the pathway I heard the screaming of one of my babies. I thought maybe a dog had wondered into the backyard ...it was a dreadful noise. When I found where the noise had come from I found this boy choking the life out of my poor Fluffy Girl. Naturally, I grabbed the little monster. I smacked him.", Diana averted her gaze as the admission seemed to embarrass her. " I told him that if I ever caught him around my house again I would report him to the police. He just laughed. Called me crazy ol' cat bitch then ran off."

"He choked your cat? Did she survive?™, Booth asked knowing she would appreciate the concern.

" Fortunately, she did. Got to him just in time. But she was never very tolerant of being petted afterward, but who could blame her.", Diana smiled weakly. A phone rang somewhere in the house. "Oh ... do you mind if I get that. I'm expecting an important call. It will take just a moment." She jumped up leaving Booth alone with Azazul who had yet to avert his gaze from Booth. He stood up... taking a moment to look at the multitude of photos she had on the mantle. One in a large silver frame caught his attention. He knew from the green eyes and flowing waist long red locks that the nude young woman sitting astride the pale gray horse was Diana Rose. Flower garlands around the equines neck, atop her head and strategically around her neck. She was Lady Godiva. It was very artfully posed.

"Those were the good old days.", Diana sat back down on the sofa. " Sorry about that... now was there anything else? " , Booth turned back to the woman.

"Actually, I have some news. Jason Andrews is dead.", Booth returned to his seat, waiting for the womans reaction.

"Oh...well that is news." She didn't cry but didn't take joy from the death either. "Did you kill him?"

Booth was surprised by her question. " Um no Mam... he died in a house fire, along with another unidentified male.", Booth weighed whether to tell her about Sweets kidnapping .._it was a kidnap.. _and continued disappearance. While he thought. Diana began talking.

" A little ironic that, since he was a volunteer with the fire and rescue squad. That's how he met Karen, she taught some of the CPR, first aid training sessions."

"Jason was friendly with all the local authorities then?", Booth thought back to "Officer Bob".

"Oh, yes.. their father was really big on civic duty. Serving your community in some way or another."

" Did you know a police officer...about Jasons age... first name Bob. Might have been a buddy of Jason and Michael? Medium to stocky build.?", Booth wanted the guy to know how much misery he could have prevented if he had just done his job.

"Bob? No.. oh wait you're referring to Stan Mettes boy...Robert. He left here years ago. I wasn't particularly .. welcome in the more upstanding citizens social circles then.." she smiled broadly "... Ha ha ... or now either. So I really don't know what ever became of him.", Booth tried to return the smile. Maybe she didn't know, but he had an idea …_Agent Mettes I need to have a talk with you_… Booth stood preparing to make his good byes. Diana caught his hand. Drilling those cat-like jade eyes into him.

"Is his son alright? Is Lance doing well? Oh... something is wrong isn't it.." Booth marveled how she picked it up. "You glanced down and sighed a bit, your hand tensed. What has happened?"

"He's missing. But we are going to find him.", Booth started for the door, but stopped before stepping out, turning quickly he gave the older woman a hug. He released the embrace.

"What on earth, was that for young man!", she stood bewildered.

"From my partner and myself, if it wasn't for you being "a crazy cat lady". You would not have saved a boy from a closet. If you had not been a free spirited artist ,with an eye for bone structure, we may never have searched for Andrews. We wouldn't have known so much... so thank you for being you!" Booth hoped he had conveyed Bones wished thanks well enough. The touched woman smiled brighter than he had seen, no wait, he saw that smile once on a girl on a horse in a silver frame.

"Go find Lance, Agent Booth! That will be enough thanks for me." , She threw her hand back in a wave of goodbye, then went inside.

"Hello..Bren? Wait..calm down. Oh my God ..Bren are ...you sure?", Angelas voice boomed through the speaker.

"Yes! Angela it's not Sweets body. He was not in the house fire.". Brennens voice came through loud and clear. Brennen could hear crying. "Angela? Are you okay?"

"Yes...I'm just..so relieved, but that means they got out.."

"Not they...the older male was Jason Andrews, Cam received DNA confirmation this morning. The other set of remains tested inconclusive."

"What no that..that can't be... Bren there was no way..after what..he went through. That Sweets left that house without help.", Angelas relief was ebbing as the news about Andrews complicated things. She thought back to Lances prone figure beaten and bloodied passed out on that bed. _He wasn't in there..he got out..but how if Andrews was there.. something isn't right. _For the first time in days Angela felt hopeful..._if Brennen says it's not him ..it's not.. _She could still find him. It wasn't too late. " I'm coming to the lab, Sweetie...we need to find him."

"Oh..okay...Angela, I am glad ..", Brennen wasn't sure how to explain her relief at hearing her best friend coming back to her. "...I have missed..you."

"Thanks..Sweetie. I'll be there soon. Have you told Jack yet? "

"Hodgins...isn't here. I thought perhaps he was at home with you. I saw him rush out earlier."

"I'll see if I can get hold of him. See you in a few.", Angela ended the call, then dialed her husband. The call went straight to voicemail. "Huh...now what's he up to?" She was tired, but so relieved at all the same...it was the first good news since that day..she had some sense of hope. It energized her. She would have a new purpose to occupy her mind instead of the painful memories that had been eating away at her. Finally, she can help save him.

Dr. Hodgins had been in the lab very early. As he had everyday since watching Andrews videos. He was determined to comb through all the evidence in the fire. .._No way that was accidental.._ so far he had only found the remnants of what may have been some remote timer. But that wasn't enough. Armed with the information Booth had supplied about Sweets watch, he was taking a hard look at the melted golden blob and the crushed glass. It seemed like a match but he knew someone who may know more. That's why he rushed past Dr. Brennen that morning. That's how he came to be at Hinerichs Jewelers. He hadn't been in here since he lost his fortune. .._damn Pelant .._. The shoppe wasn't large or glitzy. In fact it was an antique in and of itself. Beautiful dark wood and glass display cases. Filled with a potpourri of jewelry and timepieces. Most one of a kind, handmade works of art. And price tags to match. Yeah, it had been quite some time since Jack had shopped in here.

"Ah.. well if it isn't Mr. Jack Hodgins..come back to my store. Welcome, welcome.. its been so long.", the short, older gentleman stepped from behind the display and greeted Hodgins with a hearty handshake. He wore a tired brown striped vest over a white dress shirt that had the sleeves rolled up. Thick dark rimmed glasses with a jewelers eyepiece in one corner, were perched on the end of his nose. His baby blue eyes gazed over the glasses at Jack. Smiling broadly as he led Jack over to the main display. " Let me guess... you need something special for that beautiful wife of yours. I have the perfect..."

" Actually.. Mr. Hinerichs... I came , hoping you might help me identify a watch.", Hodgins tone was apologetic.

"Oh.. well... okay. For you and your family, anything! ", The shop owner vowed his heavy German accent giving the simple phrase a a dramatic flare. "May I see the timepiece?"

"Yeah, that's a problem.", Jack pulled the golden blob from his coat pocket and a copy of the assessment of Sweets watch. Its kinda melted."

"Oh dear.. well I'm not sure what I can help with."

"Tell me, about this watch first. He held out the paper"

The jeweler took the paper, reading the details thoughtfully, " Hhmm, 1930s ..Gruebner... hhmm."

Jack leaned against the case, growing impatient at the older mans pondering.

"Gruebner... Franz Gruebner was an Austrian watchmaker.. Know for accuracy and craftsmanship.. unfortunately his family did not escape the horrors of the war. They all perished in the camps.I dare say that this watch would have been one of the last produced in his shop..before.. well you know." He stepped back behind the display cases... strolling to the end of one. He opened it then produced a gold wristwatch. Stepping in front of Hodgins, he offered the timepiece up for inspection.

"This one is a little earlier...mid- twenties but not much different?", he stared at his long time customer.

Hodgins looked at the watch, the soft warm glow of gold, the clear crystal and the simple practical face. He then looked at the blob within its clear evidence bag. "What about the movement, inside..was there anything special?"

"Well... the gears were nickel-plated steel, long wearing...very dependable. The jewels would have been ruby.."

"Wait..nickel-plated steel... gold melts around 1900 degrees..nickel and steel not until over 2500 degrees... that means. do you have tools to cut open this? " Jack held up the blob.

"Of course..but first.", Mr. Hinerich said as he stepped toward the door, flipping the clock face "gone, back at" sign on the door before locking it." Alright, just follow me." The jeweler led Jack into the back of the shoppe to his work bench. Jacks eyes lit up at all the jewelers tools... well worn from years of creation and repairs. Jack relinquished the melted watch to the experienced hands of the jeweler. He carefully secured the lump in a vice, then using a very fine handsaw slowly cut around the circumference of it, he cut through the soft gold. After he had finished, he removed it from the vise. As he did the halves did not easily fall apart. Taking another tool in hand the jeweler pried it apart. Instead of the intact gears and pinions that Hodgins expected to see, the interior was a brassy blob melted into the gold. Hodgins could hardly contain his excitement. That was not the nickel-plated steel that should have remained fairly intact at the fires temps.

"Did Gruebner ever use brass? ", Hodgins checked with his expert.

"No...not that I am aware of. This watch you brought, 18 kt gold yes... but not a Gruebner. If you want an authentic Gruebner timepiece... I can make you a very reasonable offer on the one I showed you earlier. Hhmm? ", The jeweler said.

"No ..um thank you, so much. You know maybe ...next time. Now you're sure about this watch? Not the one listed here?", Jack held up the paper as he collected the remnants of the gold blob.

"I am certain. You seemed pleased." The older gentleman noted.

"You have no idea. Thank you Mr Hinerich." Jack Hodgins shook the mans hand then headed to the door. _..not the watch ...that's not Sweets..._

Hodgins climbed into his small vehicle, he picked up his phone, which he had left hooked up to charge, a couple of missed calls, Brennen and Angela. He tapped the icon..listening to the messages telling him what he already knew. That wasn't their psychologist in that fire. The excited sounds of relief in Angelas tone was contagious. He felt doubly relieved simply hearing his beloved wife sound more like the upbeat woman he loved. _..Now its time to find him... _

###*****###

Well there it is... be kind review. Given recent events on the show, I need a lift..and reviews do wonders. If it seemed disjointed or out of character... sorry. Some of the tech stuff is off too no doubt..sorry. But please if you are still reading this ...take a moment review. Please.. okay done begging. Thanks.


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